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#carpet
Patterns intricate warm luxurious cultured some full of stories meaning historical links the layer between you and what grounds you what makes you home signifies winter again warmth but stepped on
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Dec 16, 2025
Dec 16, 2025 at 5:44 AM UTC
Carpets
Would you be my shoebox a sturdy contraption, pleasingly geometrical and versatile able to cradle our heavy hearts and hide all kinds of secrets I could be your carpet you can walk all over me as I protect you from the cold the unvarnished truth and its splinters Or I could be your socks and shoes you can walk around in me all day all snug and warm at least until they need replacing around this time next year
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Jun 15, 2025
Jun 15, 2025 at 11:09 AM UTC
Clumsy footwork
Down the river, I sink Bleeding my tears Mingling with the stream Seeking a fountain Of another world I scream I cry I am deflated I am exhausted Curled up in fibers Soft carpet, lining Edges of a hallway You come closer and beckon Solidary merged Into cement walls We linger We dream in a sense Comforted by one another
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Feb 27, 2025
Feb 27, 2025 at 12:05 PM UTC
Sinking
It’s dry and still in the house this afternoon, The way houses are at 4:00 in December. I feel a little itchy and claustrophobic, Sitting on the floor. I hate this ******* carpet. Berber. I know you love me, But sometimes I wish you would let me destroy myself completely. Darkening winter gray settles over us in a dull film, Berber carpeting the world. It seeps into the house through cracks in the doorframe you kicked down when we were locked out that night. Into me too, coating my brain and joints and dreams in liquid fog. The streetlights will be dark awhile yet. Cotton ***** fill up my mouth And I’m fine, just fine. My grandmother’s favorite color was gray before people awarded points for such things. It’s nearly night, now, and the sky swirls with peek a boo pink and blue where the clouds are thin and blowing. No streetlights yet. The shadows gather at their feet. I pull out the spaghetti; Time to start dinner.
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Dec 18, 2024
Dec 18, 2024 at 4:45 PM UTC
Existential crisis, late afternoon
I swat futilely at the moth whose larvae happily eat my bedroom carpet here for my nightly ritual antacid teeth clean bed suddenly I wonder at my own mortality where is this all going then I smell it again odour of rancid sweat only in one small area but no mistake it feels as though the moths and someone have unfinished business here a carpet to eat a life not long enough to achieve everything still hanging on not quite ready to leave so maybe we never have enough time to be satisfied still, no heartburn tonight and my breath is minty fresh (I can almost hear those buggers chewing as I go to sleep)
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Aug 11, 2021
Aug 11, 2021 at 2:00 PM UTC
before bed
Red carpet All you see is red carpet Mud ,speckles of mud Fallen red but not forgotten All you see is red carpet Red carpet Berries blooming Sticky mud Squelch ! Squelch! Ref carpet is fading You no longer see fields of ref carpet Dark , dense, squelchy mud Dark mud Oh look Fallen ,fallen leaves Speckled on the ground Red, yellow ,gold Pure hope Guilding us to the red carpet Remember the red carpet is always there
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Mar 4, 2021
Mar 4, 2021 at 6:59 AM UTC
Red Carpet
I left the music on while I laid on the floor sinking into the carpet felt good I had no purpose to get up and no intentions on trying I had no reason to be anywhere and no one wanted me somewhere I realized if I disappeared no one would notice if I stayed right there on that floor in my bedroom for the weekend, it wouldn’t matter because nobody cared I was utterly alone and insanely lonely I thought I’m going to stay here forever where the carpet is soft and the world has stopped and no one knows what I’m doing and most of all, because I dont have to feel anything except the floor on my face
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Aug 24, 2020
Aug 24, 2020 at 6:49 PM UTC
Untitled
It's late. Moonlight seeps into the room through the tiny cracks of dusty blinds. It illuminates everything. Touching the books on the shelf, Caressing the plush carpet, And landing ever so delicately on the girl knelt at the foot of her bed. Her eyes are held shut, Tears leak down the sides of her face, Fogging her glasses. Her arms are folded, She's reverent, And her head is bowed. She breathes in and out with the sound of the fan waving overhead. Her heart beats to the crack of the house settling beneath her knees. She prays. The cars drive by her house unknowingly, The lights dash across the walls. It doesn't distract her. The buzz of her night light hums a mesmerizing tune, Sweetly melodic. She smiles through the tears. The faint talk of another muffled through the walls, She stays kneeling. The tears don't stop streaming as the heavens open to her. She raises her face to the ceiling, Eyes still shut. She sighs. Kneeling there, patiently, She waits for a sign. Outside a storm is brewing, The rain begins to pour. The thunder is lowly roaring, Lightly tapping at her door. Yet, nothing moves her. She stays in place, Still knelt, Still praying with tears upon her face. She sighs. Bows her head once more, And still held shut her eyes. Some say she recites the Lord's Prayer. Or perhaps a Psalm. But maybe she just kneels, patiently waiting, staying calm. "God, are you there?"
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Dec 10, 2019
Dec 10, 2019 at 9:48 PM UTC
Prayer
When I seen the purple blooming tree from a distance, It attracted me to have a look with no distance.. And that sight was of immense pleasure, Which filled my heart with full of love treasure... That tropical trees are known as jacarandas, And also the tree world’s spring stars... That breath taking flowers are pretty enough to describe in word dilemma, And that magnificent purple blue blooms resembles as an elegant umbrella... And the fallen petals makes way for a dazzling display of unimpeded purple haze, Which looks like a lavender carpet at a quick gaze... As flowers are regarded as a symbol of love, beauty and a gift of nature, Are thus used to provoke love and happiness with its power to make us cheer.... Let us all love this nature’s blessings forever, To make it a never ending full bloom ever....
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Nov 12, 2019
Nov 12, 2019 at 8:11 AM UTC
PURPLE BLOOMS (or) LAVENDER CARPET
Our smoke was all over the room Oh you said it was killing you But we were killing the seconds Lying on your mom's carpet. Oh, my time killer Don't rush it Running towards the minutes Scaring the hours. No need of caffeine You had the adrenaline in your blood You were in a hurry. Now my feet don't touch the ground They touch your feet No way down, do you feel me?
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Sep 16, 2019
Sep 16, 2019 at 5:17 PM UTC
Killing seconds sonnet
My flesh burns, Irritated by the rough carpet I kick and scream But they won't let go Holding me down My legs are raw No one can hear me Down in this old stale ***** drenched room Hacking away Cutting my hair With a thin blade The handle thick Sending blows to my head What have I done To deserve this? My arms Are bleeding Skin Is peeling They won't let go They won't They won't Blood In a scratchy carpet ***** scented Face down Feet Kicking blows Into my ribs Tears Mix with blood What have I done To deserve this?
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Jul 1, 2019
Jul 1, 2019 at 7:41 PM UTC
Rug Burn
Cool cool floor Of smooth hard tile Barefeet slapping in Successive taps Step Step Step Step Then onto carpet Silence.
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Jun 27, 2019
Jun 27, 2019 at 11:05 AM UTC
Across the Floor
You watch as the blood from my wrist trickles onto your carpet. Paying no mind until it starts to stain I whisper, "I'm sorry; please help me" You roll your eyes and usher me out of your comforting, inviting home into the cold, desolate outside. Crimson tears form in my eyes raising my voice, "I need your help!" Instead, you give me an ignorant smile before you slam the door. An incomprehensible scream for acknowledgement exits my body Peering through the window, I see you cover my bloodstain with a rug. You would rather act as if it never existed than try to stop the blood or simply clean the stain. I'm now outside; being left to rot in the earth So instead I will stain your flower bed.
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Jan 19, 2019
Jan 19, 2019 at 8:27 PM UTC
Your Bloodied Carpet
The carpeted bluebells under the woodland canopy swaying in ecstasy to the hypnotic tunes of the morning breeze invite me to blend with them to create a new shade of Spring. Am I not privileged?
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Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 3:43 PM UTC
A new shade of Spring
Last week, if I were flooring, I would be carpet. Like in the way of, how easy it is to get stained. how hard it is to clean once it is. how it just never seems to quite "fit" with the rest of the interior, "especially not in this house". But mainly it's in the way of how it is walked on. Their feet drag through it, causing the slow damage, with little care for something that requires such high of maintenance. Depression is like a carpet. I know why people rip it up now. I envy those who can.
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Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 1:18 AM UTC
Carpet
it begins about mid-evening, the edges of the rug being pulled ever so gently. intoxicated feet do not notice a room slipping beneath them. it hastens nearer to morning; as the magic carpet ride is coming to a close we begin to pat our bodies & notice the things that fell from us. sobriety. clothes. drugs. money.... ego   walls   pain After inventory is taken, the day starts without waiting for your tired eyes. oh, the saddest meeting of eyes, with the swiftest passing of friends, drugs, memories, laughter evening abliss. I am dropped, center stage -- reality. at the same moment the drugs wear off. the last quarter is spent. the first rays of the sun peek through and the last meeting of eyes as the last glimpse of a shoe disappears at the door's edge. the rug has been pulled reality and the curtains have been drawn slumber.
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Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 2:03 PM UTC
the feeling
i let people walk all over me like the red carpet except i’m not nearly as beautiful or highly regarded. falling down, i put on high heels with you in mind, to look more attractive, to appear taller; i twist my ankle but you don’t care about how painful it is when i try to look good for you. at night, i slip into a lonely unconsciousness, while you slip into another girl’s bed.
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Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 6:30 PM UTC
slip
I save this ink before it runs dry I safe my voice and bring my light I can't see your eyes, but you are tender I can't hear your voice but it is soft I give you these words, as I hand a promise I lay my carpet of emotions, touch it,kiss it I sign this pledge, accept it,keep it For no doubts or any perception reign Forever, to shine in the array of our dreams For the vulnerability deep in my crux is yours Find a way to see me through and through Follow the intuitive punches in your gut Fetch my arms as we dangle on the cliffs Fold me in you, protect me my love from the storm
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Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 12:52 PM UTC
Carpet of Emotions
They're rapping at my window, howling at my door They're clawing at my carpet, banging on my walls They're rattling my door **** flickering my lights They're looking thru the key hole, shouting thru the cracks They're crashing thru my window, breaking down my door They're tearing up the carpet, knocking down my walls They're ripping off my door **** busting all my bulbs They're coming thru the keyhole, screaming by my head They're entering my mind, there's nothing I can do They're crawling into my fleash, controlling my every move They're examining all my fears, making sure they all come true They've finally taken over, now I truly am insane
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Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 4:02 PM UTC
Rapping at My Window
sometimes you never really know how the carpet looks until you stare at it so long that the fabric melts in you start to feel cross that you cant distinguish whether it is purple with yellow waves or yellow with purple waves or if it's just really ugly carpet to begin with.
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Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 1:11 AM UTC
Waiting Room Floor
Inhale swiftly come down quickly hit the Floor Be no more. What a comfy Carpet, but it ***** me under like a tar pit. I'm left to wonder If it's dragging me down to Heaven. I've sunken seven feet under. I see the light, it's been lit. Maybe this time I just might reach for it. Reach through the rug. Reach down and give a tug. But my arm won't budge. A mortal's terror What if he holds a grudge? It's just not fair. God no not like this, Think of all the things I'll miss. If I see the suns rays Lord I swear I'll change my ways. This Time...
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Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 2:49 PM UTC
A carpet coffin