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isle Apr 2020
there is a hum in the backdoor of my mind
collecting all the dead birds and spare parts that
have lost their shine
i haven't got anywhere to put them
so theyve coloured in my entire house
feathers swamp the living room
powders of rust inhale the kitchen
and for years i could've cracked my fingers, taken off my shoes, dug up the broom and swept the floors
but ive grown used to the company,
that can't possibly hurt me,
of broken things that mostly lie still
Danielle L Cook Mar 2020
there's a lot on my mind and not a lot of ways to say it
to say exploding from within would be an understatement
repeat after me: we're okay, we're okay.
Maude Laurent Feb 2019
(Pieces. Sorting themselves. No)
They don't ever,
They never do,
Unless one has bothered to put them in a puzzle
But may be too puzzled to finish,
And they float around
Messy and scattered,
Like the thoughts in ones head,
Or a room,
Cluttered and dangerous
Because walking through the room without a light
Will most likely cause a Lego or a puzzle piece to get stuck in ones foot,
So whatever lies in this space is like this,
And a clean room has nothing in it, no imperfections, but nothingness,
So since a cluttered desk may be a sign of a cluttered mind
Or at least a person with no organization...
Then is a clean desk the sign of an empty mind,
Or did all of the clutter fall onto the floor
And we're all stuck back in a room with clutter
Falling over the junk that falls off the desks,
And everyone has Lego's stuck in their feet,
And puzzle pieces are puzzling people
Because no one ever bothered to clean it up
Or put the puzzle together correctly...
Sometimes I wonder what my mind is thinking when I write stuff like this...
SomeOneElse Oct 2018
My head is a mess
Cluttered with random ideas
Wanting to come out
My first attemp at  senryu. Just a thought i had
Madison Marian Feb 2016
I feel as though my mind has become confetti
Thrown across the room
I can't direct it or control where it lands
I can't control or plan
My mind meanders on its own going where I wish it would not go
I try and pick up the confetti and bring it back together
I try and gather my thoughts
And instead they become deeper
I cannot focus them where I want and they're uncontrolled and cluttered
I wish to start over clear and content
But the confetti has already been thrown
It's fine in the air
It's mixed with everything around it
And nothing can undo it
How unfair
bergljot Nov 2015
A stampede of elephants
Running through the rooms of my mind
As their legless bodies ask

A toucan flies to rest on a thought
With two million and two branches reaching towards my heart.
"How many cans can a toucan can if a toucan could can cans?"

Now this monkey must be joking
Those are my feelings he's holding.
And he continues to toss them about.
He peels off the skin and throws it over his shoulder
And takes one big bite out of the happiest one.

And this little duck waddles,
Left foot, right foot.
The left side is fine, but his right
Sends a nerve that clenches a fist to a glass window.

"Quack, quack."

Snip snap,

And there goes the vertebrae in my spine.
nichole r Jun 2014
half scribbled thoughts
written with darkness
cover sheets and sheets of paper
and litter the floor
of my already disorganized mind.

— The End —