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a Jun 2015
the room is a nursery
following the breakdowns
of all its residents at three
in the morning, it
whispers soft things
and peaceful melodies
and rocks them to sleep
when no one else will
the way this hat feels
on my head
its such a soft wool
its creating a light pull
on the back of my hair
but in reality
warm are my ears
its a deep shade of violet
the color of royalty
i'll reach that shortly
it's knitted quite tightly
but the pull,
it's kind of light
it works with my outfit
my ex's tye dye t-shirt
with a button up
that just happens to be tribal print
i picked it up
the day after i had stayed
that shirt matches my shoes
i took the laces out not long ago
i felt like it would be a better show
they're more comfy now
that's how this whole room feels
Myriah May 2015
If I told you that a flower bloomed in a dark room, would you trust it?
Rockie May 2015
Get over it.
You're being hormonal.
Excuse me? *Hormonal?

It's not just being hormonal.
It's called being misunderstood
Pretty much the entirety of the time.
Stop it!
Don't talk back at me.

I'm just explaining my point.
You adults do it all the time!
I've had enough.
Go to your room.

Fine!
Michaela May 2015
Though others may rush into life as it comes,
You are not as old as you tell yourself.

And the questions they cast on your perpetual blank page,
Are merely words with a lilt at the end.

You will run.
You will learn.
You will be.
I am actually not dreading the future.
vaishax May 2015
The room - now empty without you
Sweet melancholy they say, must be true!

Look by your side when you walk out that door,
A part of me will be found walking too!
http://vaishax.blogspot.in/
EME Apr 2015
Ya no sé que escribir, no encuentro esa forma tan universalmente conocida de por lo menos describir mi entorno, es como si algo se hubiera ido, esfumado, desaparecido. Frotándome la cabeza, dando vuelta por la habitación, inhalando lo ultimo de mi "Chicharrita" en la pipa de mi abuela, entro en la parte superficial de mis pensamientos y puedo darme cuenta de lo que pasa pero al entender que no sé que es lo que esta pasando caigo en la cuenta de que todo es intangible, todo esta lleno de una esencia especifica que lo hace ser lo que es pero no es lo que nuestra aproximación categórica define. Un árbol, porque es un árbol, quien lo llamo árbol, que es un árbol? es simple definirlo, decir que un árbol es eso o aquello, pero quiero definir la esencia del árbol, cual es esa esencia, de donde viene.
Dead Lock Apr 2015
My mind is an awfully large place
Though its all crammed up
Sorry, there's no more rental space
You see....
Dreams are so mashed up in the drawers
Stashed in battered stacks beneath the floors
Pouring through wooden slats in the doors
Also....
Inspiration never stops pouring in
Even though I keep stuffing it into every jar and tin
On containers I am starting to run quite thin
Maybe....
I could store you away with all the other me's
All of the future people that I might be
But you'll be trampled eventually
But....
I will never store you by the right edge
For that is a very treacherous and sly ledge
And there, darkness does hedge
So....
You see now that there is no more room
But that's just for today
So come back soon
Sally Tsoutas Apr 2015
Banned,
momentarily.
young, impetuous
stubborn and aware,
tac sharp, she merrily
swears all contraband.
trapped by parental snare
in her room of thoughts
she battles valiantly
with screaming demons,
playing cleverly,
her winning
hand.
So good to have you back iz.
The gentle whir of a dehumidifier,
In a darkened room,
The muffled beats of a playlist,
In a darkened room,
The light glares from a laptop,
In a darkened room,
One curtain drawn, the other caught on the corner of a chest of drawers,
In a darkened room,
A triangle of light on the door,
In a darkened room,
A limp hand dangles from the bed,
In a darkened room,
And a broken soul sleeps as one,
In a darkened room.
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