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Ashlyn Yoshida Feb 2021
The open gaping mouth of glass, looking in and looking out
The light refracting across the silent room
Everything is closed off; the blinds; the doors; the boxes
The glass eyes of the house muffling the sounds of the outside world

The inhabitant grown a slave to watching
The gaping mouth of glass, looking in and looking out
Stretching lines, darkening eyes, smiles turned hollow
She'll trace the filtered light with frozen desperate fingers

Her sounds are empty and echo like a dripping water from a faucet
The tiled floor is as cold as the snow that falls. Unseen
The open gaping mouth of glass, looking in and looking out
The wind seems to be whispering words she no longer yearns for

The blood is dancing with the cold
Warming the static embrace of her head and fingers
The inhabitant closes the blinds again, hiding the quiet scene
The open gaping mouth of glass, looking in and looking out
Most people believe this is about suicide so I'm going to clear this up. The inhabitant and the girl are two different people. The poem focuses on a scene, but the whole purpose is to invoke the feelings that come with paranoia. It's about a man who killed a girl, but also talking about the guilt and fear of hiding a bad thing we've done. I hope it somehow showed what I was trying to convey.
Chris Chaffin Jan 2021
robin’s-egg blue walls
contain two empty shells—
one lamp on, one lamp off
four eyes open
both minds closed
Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2020
I would like someone to care enough
Be brave and at least try
Find a ladder taller than treetops
Climb over my wall and say hi

That would be miraculous
No one dares come close
Cannot seem to attract any company
Too much wicked water around my post

How do you dam moat protecting
Parts hidden from the rest of the world
Do you let down the gates surrounding?
Fortress leaving carpet unfurled

How do you open organs up?
When you make walls shutting out
Spiral into solitude
One day you'll be happy without

The answers you will not find in yourself
At least never on your own
Won't discover our purpose in life
Until we put down the cell phone

Maybe it is the technology
Distracting from walls each must scale
You need to hit the power button
Reach the top without fail
Feedback?
Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2020
They saw world through closed eyes

In explanation
Had grown up too fast

Eyes traumatized
Sights not meant for such young
Supple bodies

But never opening to realize I am not her

The rain that drenched her as a young lady barely grazed me

Maybe I have closed eyes to thank for that
About my parents and how my mom is so overprotective but maybe it's her protectiveness that has made my life so safe
annh Aug 2020
I closed my eyes against the mortal limitations of this world and settled back to watch reruns of my youth. Discouragement and dissatisfaction gave way to golden hours and glory days, depicted in vivid technicolour and accompanied by a flugelhorn fandango.
‘No story is the same to us after a lapse of time; or rather we who read it are no longer the same interpreters.’
- George Eliot
Maydaya Miedema May 2020
Don't we all have our own little black books in here in which we attempt to write the pain away?
When I saw the new girl sitting in the garden all exhausted with hers in front of her, I ran upstairs.
I have no energy to meet another who writes her pain and plan down in a little black book.
No, I'll leave you alone.
Alone with your black book.
And I'll be in here writing too.
Upstairs or in the basement where I found out where they keep the clean white coats.
Nobody will see the stories.
Nobody can explain the journey.
I just hope you'll get some mercy.
Cause I've never seen any mercy.
Even while dreaming.
But the dreams do keep me going.
I have to still keep going.
Don't we all have to still keep going?
Don't we all need a little black book?
Do you also feel frozen and stuck deep inside your body?
Constantly?
Doesn't it get too heavy?
Like for me every day.
I won't ask you today.
I don't want to know the answer.
I have no breath left to respond.
And maybe you don't either really.
So I run upstairs.
And close the curtains to the garden and lay my head down on the chair.
The chair I wish I had when my bag of helium filled itself with oxygen when I wasn't sitting up straight enough so I didn't die.
And now in here I can't get helium.
And I wasn't approved for euthanasia either.
I lost my place to live because of trying, three times because of the situation.
Homeless.
Can you see what's wrong with this system?
Fighting for euthanasia, having dates planned already.
But the doctor to do the final check did not approve.
The second one didn't either.
But then one did after trying a few more treatments but they thought he was too willing.
Then the next one didn't either and so the case was closed.
The Netherlands, euthanasia, it's not working at all.
26-05-20
Cayley Raven May 2020
I wish I could build trust
towards people
strangers
but all
my feelings do
is keep on biting dust
I can´t really help it, I just don´t trust people.
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