Unopened, the letter sits here on my kitchen counter. I cut lemons, chop potatoes, shred dill and through it all your letter sits here. How long can it live here in silence? The fact is that I don’t want to know what it says. Why should I believe you now? If you want me back or don’t, all immaterial to me. I haven’t brought myself to throw it out yet. Each night I read my name in your handwriting.
It’s enough for me.
The gift sat there under the Christmas tree. The little girl knew she should leave it unopened. It was Christmas Eve. Her parents told her not to open it, but this nine year old was tempted to see what Santa left for her. She giggled as she walked towards the tree.
i love tom holland i want to die i hate this school and these dumb assignments my mouth is unopened and there are words in it i dont speak them cause im to scared to talk to people i wish for infinity war please just a trailer.
the bag of chips is unopened yelled my friend. i went and opened the chips for her then we ate them while watching the rest of our movie. the unopened chips were now opened.
A roiling sea rages in me. I hear the frequencies of waves as they smash, eject, bounce, collide, skid, and roll…then dissolve: bubbling, lacing surf, last sighs of tides.
Then there are the things that float to the surface. Bloated and unopened. Like junk mail from someone probably too drunk on their own hubris to think of what they’re doing as a form of littering. The ego. The id. The clams in their beds didn’t ask for this.
It had all begun with an itch. An odd, unrelenting urge to scratch had erupted on the tips of both of her ears almost as if overnight. She had scratched madly, only making the problem worse. For days, the itch persisted, agitating her further; the itch was so bad her new headphones – both exclusive and expensive – had remained unopened. After all, each day felt as though she were only steps away from scratching her ears off completely. How the hell would she fair would something pressing against them?
the box of lucky charms cereal was unopened. when i saw it i opened it to taste it when suddenly the marshmallows were dancing and singing to me. I was amazed that they were only marshmallows and that they could do such a wonderful performance.
I thought I already addressed how my life is unopened. I want to open it but I’m afraid of what might come up and out. What about the demons that lay deep in my heart, if I open it will they fly out, will they impact others. What do you do with the darkness inside of you, you keep your heart closed and you keep yourself unopened.
Unopened
I’m buried beneath years of dust
Nose smells of must
I can think of rhymes for this but they’d be just
Fucking odd as hell man… Gotta shake off the rust..
You must trust…
Me… I’m so weird, wow..
there was a jar. unopened, undisturbed. blinking inside – a silver liquid. do you drink it? perhaps this is what your grandfather was talking about on his death bed. will this “unlock your inner potential”? you reach out and take it. the time is now!
She often felt that her life was an unopened flask full of a magic dust called nothing. She never opened the flask, so she got nothing, but even if she opened it, she would have just ended with a hint of magical nothingness.
The letter, unopened, waited for him. It waited for days and months and years. Some days it sat quietly in his dresser drawer, some days it screamed to him from up the stairs and down the hallway.
The town receded in the backdrop, the rooftops in the light of the setting sun painted an ominous color. The effort to try, the effort to forgive, the effort to hate, all washed away in the coming night, all pulled down into the muck below. It took no effort to tear their eyes away from the creaky town fading away in the haze. With one broken foot, they could still saunter forward. At their own pace.
And the swamp could take hold, at its own volition. The earth reaching, reclaiming weary bones. This could be a home, or a grave. They would have taken hold of a nearby root, were it not so inviting. It was trying to show something, something not worth fearing. They dip a bruised hand underneath the surface, and let the question, ‘where?’ answer itself.
Whether they could find it was not all the swamp’s will, it had mad the challenge and picked the contestant, but their success ultimately rested in their actions. The thick water made its ways into open, broken eyes and the cracks of scars. If they could locate it, the earth had made the right choice in a new guardian. This midway between water and earth, never pure and never sturdy, took the body as if it had always been a part of it. If they could find it, if they could open it, the beginning of the rest of their lives would unlock, as well.
Action. Are you ready to take action? Are you ready to do what is right, and follow the only laws that matter?
I have seen no law of man that matters.
Can you put aside distrust, trust, anger, and all the emotions that will blind you to the callings of the land and sea?
I have been blinded before. I need not trust my flawed eyes any more than a flawed heart.
Can you find it? Can you open it?
It’s already in my hands.
The gray package lay just outside the door, untouched, unopened, undisturbed. It lay in wait for its next victim: the young girl padding her way to the front door after hearing the unmistakable chimes of the door bell.
What if I gave you a gift. The best parts of me, unopened and sealed with a kiss that God sent me here with. What if I told you I could share it with you. Would you leave me some or take it all for yourself?
when i get to the bottom i feel back on top again
when i smile it’s a frown until my mind is soft again
i’ve never felt so closed as when i was unopened
my generation making a mockery of indecision
choosing art projects for leaders
money lenders watching over banks
and me, lost in thought
wondering why i can’t think
It’s hard to opened whole heart to other people, but if you did, that will help you to get alone well with each other.
Unopened, the letter sits here on my kitchen counter. I cut lemons, chop potatoes, shred dill and through it all your letter sits here. How long can it live here in silence? The fact is that I don’t want to know what it says. Why should I believe you now? If you want me back or don’t, all immaterial to me. I haven’t brought myself to throw it out yet. Each night I read my name in your handwriting.
It’s enough for me.
Her messages sat unopened. She couldn’t think of a valuable response, so she figured why bother. No one wants to hear from her anyway.
we try to modify this door but it unopened !
something that most people do involving a can or a bottle, it always never works…D:
The unopened box at her doorstep hid an old family heirloom from her great- great- grandmother.
The gift sat there under the Christmas tree. The little girl knew she should leave it unopened. It was Christmas Eve. Her parents told her not to open it, but this nine year old was tempted to see what Santa left for her. She giggled as she walked towards the tree.
i love tom holland i want to die i hate this school and these dumb assignments my mouth is unopened and there are words in it i dont speak them cause im to scared to talk to people i wish for infinity war please just a trailer.
unopened is a word meaning not opened obviously. like a door that has yet to be opened or a package. it is the same either way.
the bag of chips is unopened yelled my friend. i went and opened the chips for her then we ate them while watching the rest of our movie. the unopened chips were now opened.
why is the can of fruit unopened.
the bag of chips is unopened.
the can of pop is unopened.
A roiling sea rages in me. I hear the frequencies of waves as they smash, eject, bounce, collide, skid, and roll…then dissolve: bubbling, lacing surf, last sighs of tides.
Then there are the things that float to the surface. Bloated and unopened. Like junk mail from someone probably too drunk on their own hubris to think of what they’re doing as a form of littering. The ego. The id. The clams in their beds didn’t ask for this.
It had all begun with an itch. An odd, unrelenting urge to scratch had erupted on the tips of both of her ears almost as if overnight. She had scratched madly, only making the problem worse. For days, the itch persisted, agitating her further; the itch was so bad her new headphones – both exclusive and expensive – had remained unopened. After all, each day felt as though she were only steps away from scratching her ears off completely. How the hell would she fair would something pressing against them?
the box of lucky charms cereal was unopened. when i saw it i opened it to taste it when suddenly the marshmallows were dancing and singing to me. I was amazed that they were only marshmallows and that they could do such a wonderful performance.
the box of lucky charms cereal was unopened. when i saw it i opened it to taste it when suddenly the marshmallows were dancing and singing to me.
I thought I already addressed how my life is unopened. I want to open it but I’m afraid of what might come up and out. What about the demons that lay deep in my heart, if I open it will they fly out, will they impact others. What do you do with the darkness inside of you, you keep your heart closed and you keep yourself unopened.
Unopened
I’m buried beneath years of dust
Nose smells of must
I can think of rhymes for this but they’d be just
Fucking odd as hell man… Gotta shake off the rust..
You must trust…
Me… I’m so weird, wow..
there was a jar. unopened, undisturbed. blinking inside – a silver liquid. do you drink it? perhaps this is what your grandfather was talking about on his death bed. will this “unlock your inner potential”? you reach out and take it. the time is now!
She often felt that her life was an unopened flask full of a magic dust called nothing. She never opened the flask, so she got nothing, but even if she opened it, she would have just ended with a hint of magical nothingness.
The letter, unopened, waited for him. It waited for days and months and years. Some days it sat quietly in his dresser drawer, some days it screamed to him from up the stairs and down the hallway.
Hello, who is there,this morning? , why open something that is not meant for you, until has been signaled to be opened by that which is unopened?
The town receded in the backdrop, the rooftops in the light of the setting sun painted an ominous color. The effort to try, the effort to forgive, the effort to hate, all washed away in the coming night, all pulled down into the muck below. It took no effort to tear their eyes away from the creaky town fading away in the haze. With one broken foot, they could still saunter forward. At their own pace.
And the swamp could take hold, at its own volition. The earth reaching, reclaiming weary bones. This could be a home, or a grave. They would have taken hold of a nearby root, were it not so inviting. It was trying to show something, something not worth fearing. They dip a bruised hand underneath the surface, and let the question, ‘where?’ answer itself.
Whether they could find it was not all the swamp’s will, it had mad the challenge and picked the contestant, but their success ultimately rested in their actions. The thick water made its ways into open, broken eyes and the cracks of scars. If they could locate it, the earth had made the right choice in a new guardian. This midway between water and earth, never pure and never sturdy, took the body as if it had always been a part of it. If they could find it, if they could open it, the beginning of the rest of their lives would unlock, as well.
Action. Are you ready to take action? Are you ready to do what is right, and follow the only laws that matter?
I have seen no law of man that matters.
Can you put aside distrust, trust, anger, and all the emotions that will blind you to the callings of the land and sea?
I have been blinded before. I need not trust my flawed eyes any more than a flawed heart.
Can you find it? Can you open it?
It’s already in my hands.
my heart. it is quite hard to open it especially when being skeptical.
The gray package lay just outside the door, untouched, unopened, undisturbed. It lay in wait for its next victim: the young girl padding her way to the front door after hearing the unmistakable chimes of the door bell.
What if I gave you a gift. The best parts of me, unopened and sealed with a kiss that God sent me here with. What if I told you I could share it with you. Would you leave me some or take it all for yourself?
when i get to the bottom i feel back on top again
when i smile it’s a frown until my mind is soft again
i’ve never felt so closed as when i was unopened
my generation making a mockery of indecision
choosing art projects for leaders
money lenders watching over banks
and me, lost in thought
wondering why i can’t think
this unopened container
sits on your table
barely touched
hardly noticed
you were so excited
when it came
you don’t know it yet
but the container’s empty
too many years
of neglect