The walls were blank. Nothing to consume the space, merely a canvas without art. They reached to the ceiling covering one human in a square box of nothing.
Walls are not good or bad..they just are. Walls can keep you from going outside or protect your fragile inside self that you may not be ready to present to the world. Walls are a parameter that can push you beyond your initial expectations.
They’re blue, old and crickity. Behind buildings and chairs. Running up up up into the sky. Holding foundations and ceilings high. They’ve witnessed this and that and more. Tons more. But have you ever stopped to wonder — What is it that walls adore? Clean food, shelter, a place to run and stare. Eyelids flittering wandering everywhere undertheneath the covers unworldy cares understanidng nothing, but what you shared.
I see it
Red
In forms of
Hand-prints
all over the
Walls
she lays on the
Floor
no sign of
Life
left in her
Dead
Gone
all that is left
are her
bloody hand-prints
on the
Walls
My walls are empty, bare, minimalist. I like it that way most of the time, but every once in a while, I think I’d like to be one of those homes with lots of art and personality on the walls. Most of the time, though, I’m happy with clean, bare, minimal. It’s less distracting.
Wannabees. They copy, they follow, they orbit around their pedestilians like dead moons around a planet. Open your eyes. You are your own planet just waiting to shine with YOUR life, not some one else’s.
The boy slumped to the ground, shoulder sore. No matter how hard he pushed, straining his muscles, the walls that caged him did not budge. With a wispy sigh, he curled into a ball upon the floor.
Walls are not only an important structure that makes up our physical world it also makes up our psychological world. See we all put up certain walls to hide something from others
We want people to see us in a certain way so we put up walls to block people from seeing anything that would ruin the perception they have of us.
walls are fourth and none. there are walls in houses and minds that i hate and love. i appreciate insulation, but loathe boundaries and disgust and repressed memories. there are things in walls that i want to know about and things that are shown through windows that i want to hear and smell. there are also things that are too vivid for me to ever bear witness to, but I think I will still peek in.
The walls close in on us. That’s why there is an outside…a place of openness, of hope, of wonder. But the walls also keep us sheltered, keep us warm, and tell us when we’re home. It’s all in the perspective, like anything is. There is a beauty in the perspective, because it keeps us outside and inside, open and warm, and keeps the walls beautiful, because they are exactly what they need to be.
You realize these walls are thin? I can here every word. Every sigh, every tsk. Everything you wish me not to here. Everything that you keep locked away. I hear it all. Flowing through the walls, to these ears, to this brain, to be processed and despised.
they were closing in on me fast, squeezing the air from my lungs and slowly compressing, compressing, pushing further and further in, until i could not survive in the space. and i tried so helplessly to grasp for air, safety, anything but death, but it was useless. the walls were caving in again.
There’s the old saying about “if walls could talk,” and can I just say thank God they don’t? I mean, if they were gossiping about the stuff I did in my room, it’d be all over! And no, it does not involve naughty things. It involves…silly things. Like maybe, just maybe, I have a collection of swords that I brandish sometimes to act cool. Or I think of random songs to play and sing on my guitar.
If these walls could talk, they’d tell you all my secrets. Oh, how humiliating that would be. Do you know what these walls have seen? I would die of my shame. No, but these walls can’t talk.
They’re closing in on you. Truthfully, these walls seems like they’re… pushing on you. You’re suffocating. Parent, family, friends, all with these expectations. They block you, and you feel just so restricted within these four walls.
The walls are closing in on me. I’m getting scared. What’s going to happen? How long will it take? I’m afraid.. I’m anxious… will I ever see the ones I love again. Wait… what… it was all just a dream. I open my eyes and stretch my arms and breathe in the fresh morning air coming in the window.
Ściany otaczają mne, cały czas słuchaja i patrza na mnie. Chcą mnie pocieszać ,radować , nie lubię tego stanu, zawsze mam wolne myśli, ściany to moi przyjaciele.
I like walls. They come in all different colors. They keep out people when you want to be alone. Walls might be scary to some, but to me they are comfortable.
The bread lay on the board, the board on the table, the table had its four legs on the floor, the floor ran out as far as the walls. The bread was to be consumed within these walls. The morning would have the bread in the walls, but then the morning would run far, far out of these walls.
as i entered through the doors of perception, my walls of prejudice collapsed instantaneously. i could not survive in this racist world full of hatred. the walls’ debris are a constant remainder of the pain from those words. the brown, green, white, red with an eagle in the middle devouring the serpent of wisdom. sitting eagle said to me while chewing on the scrumptious meal that the scar will never fade. i am alive now and will always will so lets bomb some great walls in the world and the galaxy to bring them down once and for all. even if they are not brought down, what do you think we will do? it is easy as one, two, three. Jump over the fence and smoke that tree. the tree of life will clear all prejudice from our eyes.
Waking from a haze of darkness, Steven found himself in a walled room. There were no windows and he didn’t see a door, but the other side of the room lay in complete darkness. For all he knew, there could be someone else in the room with him and he would never know. He remained motionless for the first few moments, letting his eyes adjust to the gloom.
I have constructed a helmet
with four walls and a ceiling
two windows, a door
and floor to cement around my neck
a concrete garotte
air tight and taunt
skin against stone
There are walls in a house. Walls separate different rooms. A room usually has four walls. Walls can be painted different colors. Beware if there’s a crack in your wall.
I don’t know if you would call these walls bad. They’re more boundaries. Places I will not allow our friendship to move to. places in my heart that are guarded. not to keep me from getting hurt, but to save them for my husband. the part of me that really likes you, tells me to tear down the walls. but the part of me that knows what’s best says, “Stand strong, don’t give away your heart to someone who can’t promise you a future.”
Walls turned red from the amount of blood going out of her veins. She surely wasn’t human, she was some kind of human shaped monstrosity which had enough blood to fill this room with it. He couldn’t understand that she’s still alive even after decapitation, but there was no time to think, even without head she was dangerous.
Oh I am glad that walls exist because if they didn’t we could see a whole lot that we don’t want to see. People dressing, people kissing, people naked, people going to the bathroom. People having conversations about our Christmas presents, people talking about our faults, maybe. Walls seem sometimes to be a barrier to us, but usually, I think, they’re a protection!
they stand between us and within us they crumble under the pressure of brute force and kindheartedness they ask us to consider our actions and cause us to regret and they allow us to love to the fullest.
if we open the walls of our hearts, we can do almost anything we thought we could not.
They creep in, never subsiding for the most simplest of times. The padding, thick, comforting, and delicious food from the little hole in the wall, walls, walls, walls…
They say I’m special, but the walls say otherwise.
walls to paint, walls to tear down, especially the walls we build to protect ourselves.
The walls were blank. Nothing to consume the space, merely a canvas without art. They reached to the ceiling covering one human in a square box of nothing.
Walls are not good or bad..they just are. Walls can keep you from going outside or protect your fragile inside self that you may not be ready to present to the world. Walls are a parameter that can push you beyond your initial expectations.
They’re blue, old and crickity. Behind buildings and chairs. Running up up up into the sky. Holding foundations and ceilings high. They’ve witnessed this and that and more. Tons more. But have you ever stopped to wonder — What is it that walls adore? Clean food, shelter, a place to run and stare. Eyelids flittering wandering everywhere undertheneath the covers unworldy cares understanidng nothing, but what you shared.
I see it
Red
In forms of
Hand-prints
all over the
Walls
she lays on the
Floor
no sign of
Life
left in her
Dead
Gone
all that is left
are her
bloody hand-prints
on the
Walls
walls
in my heart keep me in place.
the small me.
not the Big Me that’s everywhere
I want to be.
My walls are empty, bare, minimalist. I like it that way most of the time, but every once in a while, I think I’d like to be one of those homes with lots of art and personality on the walls. Most of the time, though, I’m happy with clean, bare, minimal. It’s less distracting.
Wannabees. They copy, they follow, they orbit around their pedestilians like dead moons around a planet. Open your eyes. You are your own planet just waiting to shine with YOUR life, not some one else’s.
Walls can keep people in, or they can keep people out.
The boy slumped to the ground, shoulder sore. No matter how hard he pushed, straining his muscles, the walls that caged him did not budge. With a wispy sigh, he curled into a ball upon the floor.
Cushion and white
Surrounding,
Claustrophobia is a familiar feeling.
The orange scratches my skin.
I bleed.
I’m choking.
*ate
Walls are not only an important structure that makes up our physical world it also makes up our psychological world. See we all put up certain walls to hide something from others
We want people to see us in a certain way so we put up walls to block people from seeing anything that would ruin the perception they have of us.
walls are fourth and none. there are walls in houses and minds that i hate and love. i appreciate insulation, but loathe boundaries and disgust and repressed memories. there are things in walls that i want to know about and things that are shown through windows that i want to hear and smell. there are also things that are too vivid for me to ever bear witness to, but I think I will still peek in.
The walls close in on us. That’s why there is an outside…a place of openness, of hope, of wonder. But the walls also keep us sheltered, keep us warm, and tell us when we’re home. It’s all in the perspective, like anything is. There is a beauty in the perspective, because it keeps us outside and inside, open and warm, and keeps the walls beautiful, because they are exactly what they need to be.
You realize these walls are thin? I can here every word. Every sigh, every tsk. Everything you wish me not to here. Everything that you keep locked away. I hear it all. Flowing through the walls, to these ears, to this brain, to be processed and despised.
walls
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
All the King’s horses and all the King’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again.
they were closing in on me fast, squeezing the air from my lungs and slowly compressing, compressing, pushing further and further in, until i could not survive in the space. and i tried so helplessly to grasp for air, safety, anything but death, but it was useless. the walls were caving in again.
There’s the old saying about “if walls could talk,” and can I just say thank God they don’t? I mean, if they were gossiping about the stuff I did in my room, it’d be all over! And no, it does not involve naughty things. It involves…silly things. Like maybe, just maybe, I have a collection of swords that I brandish sometimes to act cool. Or I think of random songs to play and sing on my guitar.
…DON’T JUDGE ME, WALLS. I KNOW YOU ARE.
If these walls could talk, they’d tell you all my secrets. Oh, how humiliating that would be. Do you know what these walls have seen? I would die of my shame. No, but these walls can’t talk.
They’re closing in on you. Truthfully, these walls seems like they’re… pushing on you. You’re suffocating. Parent, family, friends, all with these expectations. They block you, and you feel just so restricted within these four walls.
But don’t.
Knock down your fourth wall.
You’re not limited.
And show yourself and others what you can do.
The walls are closing in on me. I’m getting scared. What’s going to happen? How long will it take? I’m afraid.. I’m anxious… will I ever see the ones I love again. Wait… what… it was all just a dream. I open my eyes and stretch my arms and breathe in the fresh morning air coming in the window.
Ściany otaczają mne, cały czas słuchaja i patrza na mnie. Chcą mnie pocieszać ,radować , nie lubię tego stanu, zawsze mam wolne myśli, ściany to moi przyjaciele.
I like walls. They come in all different colors. They keep out people when you want to be alone. Walls might be scary to some, but to me they are comfortable.
blue sky lonely flowers dirty alone brain silence heart listen hear silence love happy unhappy
The bread lay on the board, the board on the table, the table had its four legs on the floor, the floor ran out as far as the walls. The bread was to be consumed within these walls. The morning would have the bread in the walls, but then the morning would run far, far out of these walls.
as i entered through the doors of perception, my walls of prejudice collapsed instantaneously. i could not survive in this racist world full of hatred. the walls’ debris are a constant remainder of the pain from those words. the brown, green, white, red with an eagle in the middle devouring the serpent of wisdom. sitting eagle said to me while chewing on the scrumptious meal that the scar will never fade. i am alive now and will always will so lets bomb some great walls in the world and the galaxy to bring them down once and for all. even if they are not brought down, what do you think we will do? it is easy as one, two, three. Jump over the fence and smoke that tree. the tree of life will clear all prejudice from our eyes.
Waking from a haze of darkness, Steven found himself in a walled room. There were no windows and he didn’t see a door, but the other side of the room lay in complete darkness. For all he knew, there could be someone else in the room with him and he would never know. He remained motionless for the first few moments, letting his eyes adjust to the gloom.
Brick over brick, the vines intertwined and leaked through weary crevices.
The smell of burnt polystyrene and a little bit of chaos: nothing to run away from. Sound everywhere. But stay. Jump over the walls, look, breathe.
These walls can not hold me.
I’ve broken them down before.
I am a force to be reckoned with,
that I can assure.
I have constructed a helmet
with four walls and a ceiling
two windows, a door
and floor to cement around my neck
a concrete garotte
air tight and taunt
skin against stone
There are walls in a house. Walls separate different rooms. A room usually has four walls. Walls can be painted different colors. Beware if there’s a crack in your wall.
I don’t know if you would call these walls bad. They’re more boundaries. Places I will not allow our friendship to move to. places in my heart that are guarded. not to keep me from getting hurt, but to save them for my husband. the part of me that really likes you, tells me to tear down the walls. but the part of me that knows what’s best says, “Stand strong, don’t give away your heart to someone who can’t promise you a future.”
Sometimes I see stone walls and wonder who built them. No wall as intricate as that occurs in nature.
khkhfgfhk lhllhljhl hjhjghfhj jhghhdsmfdsmfjsqdfjsqkfj dfqfllkjdfsjqklljdflsjsjfqfljqlflqjfqj llhlkjhjkg ggfgfjgkjhkkhjkhkhkjhjkhkjhkjhkjhkhv.
Walls turned red from the amount of blood going out of her veins. She surely wasn’t human, she was some kind of human shaped monstrosity which had enough blood to fill this room with it. He couldn’t understand that she’s still alive even after decapitation, but there was no time to think, even without head she was dangerous.
Oh I am glad that walls exist because if they didn’t we could see a whole lot that we don’t want to see. People dressing, people kissing, people naked, people going to the bathroom. People having conversations about our Christmas presents, people talking about our faults, maybe. Walls seem sometimes to be a barrier to us, but usually, I think, they’re a protection!
they stand between us and within us they crumble under the pressure of brute force and kindheartedness they ask us to consider our actions and cause us to regret and they allow us to love to the fullest.
if we open the walls of our hearts, we can do almost anything we thought we could not.
They creep in, never subsiding for the most simplest of times. The padding, thick, comforting, and delicious food from the little hole in the wall, walls, walls, walls…
They say I’m special, but the walls say otherwise.