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Pockets Aug 2020
There’s mold in the attic
Next to the instillation and between the ears
so many people wanna condemn this place
Yet they have never lived here
They didn’t see it when it was new and beautiful
Before the outside world formed cracks in its foundation
Before years of storms leaked in and rotted memories
All the world sees is foreclosed eyes
That’s why they are so blind
Always trying to tear us down
Instead of building us back up
Then they wonder why we put locks on are doors
And plywood over the windows
They only wanna see something new
Even if its not there own
Some people houses look just like mine
Some peoples minds are abandoned homes
Luna Aug 2020
Better at creating,
The best at manipulating,
But why do I always find myself...
Sat here just waiting?
Watching the world
Pass me by,
Through the window of
A moving vehicle
I'm a passenger
But this imagery feels like the movies,
Where some serendipitous event happens
At this very moment,
When you are pondering over life
Through your little window
You wake up to realize that this is the real-life
A journey with random stops,
Varied stories,
Vivid dreams,
But unlike life, there's a fixed destination
To that journey
While life is more of an endless cesspool
Of unrelated chaos
The destination is not etched into your hands,
The destination is what you make of it
Well, maybe there is no point
In trying to get all the answers to my questions
It took me a while to figure out how
It ain't all that bad,
How I'm happy and glad
For the good times that I've had
Not all-in for always living in the moment,
Just trying to live more in the good ones
Destiny and life go hand-in-hand
Maybe I should not let my life go bland
I should take decisions and actions,
Rather than waiting for the signs that I can understand.
Austin B Aug 2020
There's a bird at your window.
Chest cloaked in a lush boastful yellow.
Timid dust brown feathered head,
with flurries of white laced around its neck.
There's a bird at your window.
Singing the echoes of blissful memories,
majestic tones of innocence.
There's a bird at your window.
Eyes filled to the top with intuition,
feathers fluttering with intent,
not a worry in the world.
There's a bird at your window.
Wondering if it knows,
knows what world we live in today,
or if it even cares.
There's a bird at your window.
izi Jul 2020
My greatest enemy,
Silence. My most wonderful dream,
Silence.

Silence that hangs like a thread,
Silky, soft, bound to break.

Silence that wraps around you,
A warm blanket of comforting.

Silence that wakes you,
Awash in that moonlight glow.

Silence that defines you,
Fiber, soul, essence, and heart.

Silence that you wish would just,
Stop being so deafening.

Silence that suffocates,
Then lets you breathe.

Silence that opens a window,
More than your eyes ever could.

Silence that makes me afraid,
Lifts you up on angel-like wings.

Silence that is too short, too long,
Too silence-y.

Silence, that doesn't sound like a word,
Until you hear it.

Silence that sits there,
Waiting, wondering, thinking.

Silence in the darkness,
The most comfortable moments,
And the scariest.

I've never learned how to be silent,
In the proper way,
Until I met you.

You, who uses silence,
You, who knows silence,
You, who is silence.

I can't say I know you,
But I know silence,
Around you,
Lying together,
Arms tangled.
Smiling in
Silence.
Carlo C Gomez Jul 2020
Distance
Coddled me into believing
Each step forward was the same,
Measure for measure.

Detachment
Led me to reason
Every unguarded move was safe,
So new, so pure.

Then all at once,
So Thirty Years' War,
Out the window
I was thrown.
Ruheen Jul 2020
Don't let the bed bugs bite...
Even though they're crawling
All over you.

Don't let the raindrops win...
Even though they're
Surrounding you.

Don't let the windows shine...
Even though they can
Always see you.

Don't let the bed bugs bite...
Because even when you're
Holding your pillow tight...

They still come and snuggle up by your side.
...figure it out. I'm going to sleep
ebh Jun 2020
most days, when the sun is high and the sky is clear and the wind is slow,
i like to leave my window open for my cats, long-haired and elegant beings as they are.
they tend to visit for longer if the window is ajar, allowing sunlight to peek in and wind to sneak its tendrils in,
and there is little wonder why that is.
their eyes linger on birds the most, and i know that if they had their way they would be velvety hunters like their ancestors were
but my parents are birdwatchers (and i am sensitive) so they must be content with simply watching from my screened window,
dreaming of the fierce predators they could be, if only.
When I look through the window, I see
Free bird in the sky.
I wish this could be the destiny of my.
No matter what happiness I get here inside.
The urge in me to go out never die...
not everyone can be a free bird but everyone desires to...
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