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Nat Aug 2021
The laundry heap sighs, one shirt less burdened
Ever tense, the afternoon, ever still
Clouds crawl by like television static
Not a drop of rain meets the windowsill

Just a squatter, hidden away
Idle hands, second-hand body
A vacant home, a fragile world
Everything fits a bit oddly
Amanda Kay Burke Jul 2021
So much pain weighing down heavy heart
Wish I would let sadness go
Clinging to my skin like static
Stalking like own shadow
Sighs..
Ashlyn Yoshida Feb 2021
The open gaping mouth of glass, looking in and looking out
The light refracting across the silent room
Everything is closed off; the blinds; the doors; the boxes
The glass eyes of the house muffling the sounds of the outside world

The inhabitant grown a slave to watching
The gaping mouth of glass, looking in and looking out
Stretching lines, darkening eyes, smiles turned hollow
She'll trace the filtered light with frozen desperate fingers

Her sounds are empty and echo like a dripping water from a faucet
The tiled floor is as cold as the snow that falls. Unseen
The open gaping mouth of glass, looking in and looking out
The wind seems to be whispering words she no longer yearns for

The blood is dancing with the cold
Warming the static embrace of her head and fingers
The inhabitant closes the blinds again, hiding the quiet scene
The open gaping mouth of glass, looking in and looking out
Most people believe this is about suicide so I'm going to clear this up. The inhabitant and the girl are two different people. The poem focuses on a scene, but the whole purpose is to invoke the feelings that come with paranoia. It's about a man who killed a girl, but also talking about the guilt and fear of hiding a bad thing we've done. I hope it somehow showed what I was trying to convey.
I swallow your words
And begin to mellow out.
Turbulence in my bloodstream,
Yet static numbness all throughout.

An accent laced with malice,
By a tongue that knew no sympathy.
You graced me with the fortunes
Of love's complex simplicities.

Love baffles.
Love hurts.
Trivial hearts.
Giovanna Jan 2021
People are static.
Dynamic are their faces to you
and your position to them.
People never change, their priorities do!
Samara Nov 2020
It
    changes
                   colors
                               but
                           it
                   may
                            as
               well
                        be
           what
         it
      is.
Josephine Wilea Oct 2020
The hazy static of a head rush
Radiating from forehead to kneecaps


I miss us.
Jacob Lyons Sep 2020
The moon is always around at night
When your darkness can’t be more bright
Feel the echo attack the silent
It will haunt you, leave you violent
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