I haven’t brushed my hair in a few days. The drool from previous nights have meshed into one another, into some matted rat’s nest. There really is no reason to brush it, at this point my hair has been downgraded from a sexual organ to more of a disembodied kidney in a Styrofoam ice box.
i brushed my hair. it’s so hard to brush through all of the knots in my hair. ohh muy gosh, i need a haircut. but honestly. i can’t use a paint brush to save my life. i’m no visual artist and yet i still try. but like, i oil pull now before i brush my teeth
She brushed the hair out of his eyes, letting her hand trail down his cheek. He smiled; when was the last time he’d smiled? When was the last time she’d been this close to him? “You really need to take better care of yourself,” she said. He laughed; when was the last time he’d laughed? “I’ll take better care of myself when it’s finished. I don’t have time before that.” “Well, you’d better make time,” she said, “because I’m not coming to your funeral even if that means you’ll have the manuscript done by thursday.” And suddenly science seemed completely irrelevant as she leaned in and kissed him, driving away all thoughts of any electric reactions besides the one currently igniting every sense in his body. With her here, what did anyone need electromagnetic theory for?
You brushed my hand an my heart exploded, my stomached filled with butterflies, and my body became warm. I knew from that moment it was meant to be; you and I.
they brushed the sky
and turned away from the terrifying beauty
of the void
i’m not sure if i’m supposed to envision the world
as a bubble or an expanse ever stretching
i prefer the one some days
today i notice that the sun is farther
and that we are all sadder for it
I brushed yesterday not because I wanted to but because it is a habit worth inculcating in yourself. Brushing helps remove all germs from our teeth and they shine like polished with white paint.
Lisa’s hair was long and snaggy. You hear her name and you imagine hair smooth as silk, but her hair was curly and red and like a lion’s mane. Running a brush through it was like running a lawn mower through a prickly bush. It wasn’t just her hair, it was all of her: short and freckly and apt to trip over her toes. How she wished she was like Kristine, tall and blonde with hair that she could swish at all the boys sneaking looks at her! She pulled the brush through her hair, so forcefully that it ripped out her hair along with the knots. Her eyes stung with tears.
“Patience.” Her mom took the brush from her hands and Lisa tried to blink the tears away without them overflowing the cups of her eyes. Her mom the brush through the knots and she felt them snapping, one by one.
brushed. that’s it that’s all it took. He brushed my hand walking down the hallway, the one with the flickering lights and the stains on the left side of the white walls. that’s when I knew I was done for. One just doesn’t feel skin brushing theirs in an abandoned hospital and survive.
i brushed up against success. it was smooth, cold, and silver feeling. it was hard for me to remove myself from it’s contact. i sat there, leaning against success for a while. feeling cool, smooth and silver.
Brushed off, like a piece of dirt, a snaggy piece of hair. “Sorry, please, would you…?” “What part of… don’t you understand?” She’s walking away, the sun sprays her brown hair in glamour. It’s dustless, clean, smells of fruity shampoo.
The bubbles brushed past her. She was a mermaid. She was a narwhal. She was the entire ocean. Those looking down at her, watching her to make sure she didn’t drown, just saw a baby in a bathtub. Little did they know she could never drown. Not her. Not Kestrel Jayne, queen of the sea. Not the baby covered in barnacles and seaweed growing in as hair.
I haven’t brushed my hair in a few days. The drool from previous nights have meshed into one another, into some matted rat’s nest. There really is no reason to brush it, at this point my hair has been downgraded from a sexual organ to more of a disembodied kidney in a Styrofoam ice box.
i brushed my hair. it’s so hard to brush through all of the knots in my hair. ohh muy gosh, i need a haircut. but honestly. i can’t use a paint brush to save my life. i’m no visual artist and yet i still try. but like, i oil pull now before i brush my teeth
i brushed my edges down before leaving out for school. When I got to school my edges poof back up and i had to do it all over again.
this was yesterdays word.
I brushed my hair. You can brush a Horses main. Their are many things that you can brush. But not only brushing hair
She brushed the hair out of his eyes, letting her hand trail down his cheek. He smiled; when was the last time he’d smiled? When was the last time she’d been this close to him? “You really need to take better care of yourself,” she said. He laughed; when was the last time he’d laughed? “I’ll take better care of myself when it’s finished. I don’t have time before that.” “Well, you’d better make time,” she said, “because I’m not coming to your funeral even if that means you’ll have the manuscript done by thursday.” And suddenly science seemed completely irrelevant as she leaned in and kissed him, driving away all thoughts of any electric reactions besides the one currently igniting every sense in his body. With her here, what did anyone need electromagnetic theory for?
You brushed my hand an my heart exploded, my stomached filled with butterflies, and my body became warm. I knew from that moment it was meant to be; you and I.
they brushed the sky
and turned away from the terrifying beauty
of the void
i’m not sure if i’m supposed to envision the world
as a bubble or an expanse ever stretching
i prefer the one some days
today i notice that the sun is farther
and that we are all sadder for it
I brushed my hair into a ponytail before leaving the house. When I got into the car the wind blew my hair out of its place and I had to do it again.
I brushed yesterday not because I wanted to but because it is a habit worth inculcating in yourself. Brushing helps remove all germs from our teeth and they shine like polished with white paint.
She brushed up against the threads of his shirt as he past, like a light branch grasping at those who walk by it on a trail in the woods.
Lisa’s hair was long and snaggy. You hear her name and you imagine hair smooth as silk, but her hair was curly and red and like a lion’s mane. Running a brush through it was like running a lawn mower through a prickly bush. It wasn’t just her hair, it was all of her: short and freckly and apt to trip over her toes. How she wished she was like Kristine, tall and blonde with hair that she could swish at all the boys sneaking looks at her! She pulled the brush through her hair, so forcefully that it ripped out her hair along with the knots. Her eyes stung with tears.
“Patience.” Her mom took the brush from her hands and Lisa tried to blink the tears away without them overflowing the cups of her eyes. Her mom the brush through the knots and she felt them snapping, one by one.
brushed. that’s it that’s all it took. He brushed my hand walking down the hallway, the one with the flickering lights and the stains on the left side of the white walls. that’s when I knew I was done for. One just doesn’t feel skin brushing theirs in an abandoned hospital and survive.
i brushed up against success. it was smooth, cold, and silver feeling. it was hard for me to remove myself from it’s contact. i sat there, leaning against success for a while. feeling cool, smooth and silver.
Brushed off, like a piece of dirt, a snaggy piece of hair. “Sorry, please, would you…?” “What part of… don’t you understand?” She’s walking away, the sun sprays her brown hair in glamour. It’s dustless, clean, smells of fruity shampoo.
I brushed my hair out this morning and i had a lot of knots. Then I brushed my sisters hair and her hair was really smooth and silky and long
You brush your hair in the morning when your hair sticks up. Past form of brush is brushed. It helps if you put water on your hair to keep it down.
Past tence of brush
A comb like thing
Makes me think of when I brushed my teeth this morning
The bubbles brushed past her. She was a mermaid. She was a narwhal. She was the entire ocean. Those looking down at her, watching her to make sure she didn’t drown, just saw a baby in a bathtub. Little did they know she could never drown. Not her. Not Kestrel Jayne, queen of the sea. Not the baby covered in barnacles and seaweed growing in as hair.
The beautiful artwork showed the brushed strokes.
I brushed my ling lucious hair with my hair brush. The bristles brushed against my head.