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Leone Lamp Jul 5
Do you want to see inside?
I'm afraid you can't
It's too messy inside
I need that space to hide
All that useless junk we buy
And I haven't swept up yet
There's the corner where I cried
We had a stinky rat, but it died
That room's for my bride
That door is an illusion
It really leads outside
Circumnavigates our dwelling
There really is no telling
Why that portal lies
That's not a door!
It's a jar!
And it's letting in the flies
And they're buzzing all inside
My hollow head, which I call home
My brain is locked, the key's a comb
Please don't enter
It's not a house
It's a tomb
The new Bo Burnham special "Inside" is pretty **** good. (This is sorta a tribute).

~07/05/2021
Man Jun 26
who the **** knows how an alien would view us

terrified, at the awe inducing power
we've wrestled from the world
and the lack of respect we have for it

mortified, at the sheer opulence
we've dug out from the earth
and that the many shall never see

inside, we all know
that anything makes more sense
than a perspective that rung
even neutral
Kyle May 29
I'm broken inside,
I tried to fix it, I really tried;
But it was so fragile,
That even when I tried to fix it,
It would only get worse.
My body was tired.
My mind was in chaos.
My heart was broken.
And my soul was shattered.
Dharatal May 17
I felt everything to deeply,
At a depth knows no end.

I locked the door & cried so loud inside, at the darkest corner.

I laughed to cover the wound,
Someone didn't heard my internal sound.

I made the stranger smile at once & was left alone in the hall with empty chairs.

I have hidden myself from a long time,
World thought I am happy inside.
Don't try to read someone by their face, your every try will fail.
Lani Apr 22
Inside I'm
crying
hurt
deadly
happy
nostalgic
terrified
excited
hopeful
needing
hu­rt

Inside I'm
lovely
annoying
rude
kind
helpful
ignorant
horrible
kind

Outsid­e I'm
happy
sweet
shy
funny
amazing

Inside they're
needing me
but I'm too
worried about what's on the outside
to worry about them
inside
wow this was all over the place
not how I imagined it
Two dark sides converse in glinted eye,
we judge between few subtle signs,
vibrations bend which speed up time,
what sad masks we wear, when occupied.

Allow yourself some pause for thought,
searching around inside of you,
whichever form this may flow through,
to find that place of peace and solitude.

Importance of imprinting reflective memories,
we hold onto questions of our visions set,
remembering of what was and came to be,
a fabricated formulae.

The varied receptive connections of others,
helps us engage respond and occupy,
to release the grey that builds inside,
heaviness escapes through focused sighs.
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
Morgan Vail Apr 28
I feel dead.
I feel dead,
Like the leaves, and the trees, and the missing names from my poems.
Daydreaming away hours of the day,
About escaping reality while escaping reality.

When I feel dead,
I feel scared,
And I feel scared because this is the dead that I felt with the knife.
And I know that full well.

I know this feeling more than any other.
I’ve been with it longer than any other.
The dead that makes you forget what it was like to be alive,
And this becomes the new alive.

I am so tired.
I am terrified.
More scared than dead.
I have no instruction manual.
No words to tell myself to stop feeling dead.
I promised myself I wouldn’t feel this way again, and yet,
I have nothing in terms of keeping that promise.

Falling without help will **** me.
Hitting the ground without help will **** me.
Help will **** me.
Because the hand reaching out to keep me from falling is choking me.
Cutting off my air and replacing it with cold, cold water.
This is who I am,
And if I don’t keep it distracted,
It will **** me.
Morgan Vail Apr 17
Breath condensing against glass confines,
Out of order, out of being.
Undaunted rebellion against the boundless universe,
Splayed out onto bed sheets or forest ground.
In the corners of damp alleys.
Law, worries, ribbons undone.
Hair fallen, laughably bedraggled.
Melting snow dancing on raven feathers.
Faint fingertips skimming across that brazen chest.
Oxygen crestfallen for its own demise.
And oh, how it will die.
Kin with each unmerciful covenant.
Maimed by wayward kisses and borrowed time.
This mortal revolt championed by love.
God is dead and we are still here.
The world is ending, and we are still free.
Raven Feels Apr 13
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, no one knows you better than yourself:}


you know inside

you know outside

of yourself fears of the dies

they come to a fatal end they cry

letters on night candles lit

not even legal to spit

not sure if I can handle this not a bit

a mad house on the blacks

on dug wholes on the ***** slacks

problem with dignity

pride on admitting the consequences of this troubled malignity

                                                                               ------ravenfeels
Spriha Kant Apr 7
When fear flutters me I close my heart's shutter for preventing its entry inside me.

© SPRIHA KANT
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