She looked beautiful. Her dress was pure shimmering white. Her pale skin was soft and smooth. Her hair was adorned with a crown of flowers, so intricate, so beautiful it looked other worldly. She was the perfect bride.
Except for the soul-deep sadness in her eyes, and the slightly forced edge of her smile. Yes, she was beautiful, but what was beauty when happiness was forever forsaken?
I would like to know how it feels like to be adorned. I see adorned people everyday, popular persons whom make other peoples’ day. Makes me wonder if I’ll be missed, not because of death or anything, but if I’m missing.
his neck is adorned by black and blue;
he wears his bruises with pride,
grins despite the blood on his teeth.
his fists are battered and torn,
skin peeling and scratches exposing pink,
bones shaken but not shattered.
it’s not just a bar fight or a graceless spin;
he says it’s a victory
( punched the other guy’s nose in,
felt it crack beneath his knuckles,
felt it /pop/ to a beat )
there aren’t any wounds to lick,
no scabs to pick at,
just blood and adrenalin and two consenting souls
waltzing like clumsy children
( there is no glory in violence,
but you do have to admit
that you can breathe better despite your battered ribs )
The clothes he wore adorned his body. Even if he could not see it, I thought him to be beautiful.
With or without clothes.
But they fitted him, like a frame fits a picture, they made the edges less rough and the inside shimmer like the stars.
today was her day. the day for which she had been waiting for ages. she stood there silent, waiting for him in her beautiful velvet, off white dress, with a majestic clip embellishing her silky smooth hair.
and there he was, with a bouquet of roses in his hand, he gave her an excited look. her lips curved into a smile, which adorned her threefold than before.
She was adorned with hands and old books. The light caught her in mid-smile, the ivory of her skin radiating it back into the room like one of the bounces in my studio. The hands were of paper and ink and the books elevated her feet. She lounged like a queen. I saw her as a dream.
the piece was still there up on the wall. A paining of her crying under water. Smiling, waiting to be appreciated. eyes passed by and no one cared. but it lay there, the wall adorned.
her fingers sparkled in the sun, weighed down by her heavy holy rings. whenever a traveler from a foreign land would visit her, they would have to bow down with their face towards the ground and gently kiss the top of her most ornate stone, a large sapphire that glistened like deep pools of water, pools that would reflect the eyes of the traveler back up at them.
he adorned her a cloth that was made so fine that no matter how many time she felt it she still never knew it was on her shoulders. He tried to sooth her into the rest of the clothing but no matter how much he tried she kept staring at her dead husbands body as the blood spilled out his body onto the cold ground around him.
Her face was adorned with whiskers of silver. Her upper lip was the silver lining of the storm cloud that hung, ever present, fat with doom above her bed.
She adorned herself with people in way a little girl would use plastic jewels and sparkly trinkets. She used them to make herself look beautiful, feel special and seem wanted.
she was adorned with flowers..her hair, her neck, even her arms were decked in bracelets made of beautiful white flowers.. In the glow of the moonlight, she looked like an angel sent down from the heavens; an angel who was so naturally beautiful, that she could leave anyone breathless.
There are ropes around her wrists—the coarse, homemade type that surely tears at the delicate skin of her arms. Still, she doesn’t flinch. She raises a single, trembling hand to point us out of the group. There are things attached to the ropes, ornamentation, adorning her arms and making a macabre symphony of jingling clanks in the wake of her movement. Things like shells, like teeth, like so many bones.
Pieces of us will be joining them soon.
adorned golden tremble sticks, flashing waggers fancy timing. sister luck and wondermint tea. hot to the touch, glistening in the sun. the table is iron and netted, the ants crawl through the ovals like scuba guys back to the boat. treetops bending toward the sunlight. poppyseed.
The woman was waiting for her date to show up she adorned her best dress with a pin her mother had given to her for luck, she checked her make up one more time then glanced at the clock he’s late she thought and frowned hoping she wasn’t getting stood up again.
I wore the velvet and the red crimson flowed, adorned in the finery such as I’ve never before borne. You’re the fire, the mist and the earth, adorned with a crown of stars hanging from the eyes deep in celestial blues and blacks.
to be loved by you
through cracked cement and bellowing clouds
I pray for confliction among the worry-trodden tracks
of daylight in my retinal memory
when we were young there was nothing more
and nothing less
than
to be loved by you
Um this makes me think of the promo for Cinderella Revival on broadway. they made up a song that was Baby Got Back but with Glass Slippers and it made me laugh for 20 minutes straight. Santino Fontana I freaking love you for writing that <3
I really adorned everyone at the party. That was the case for a little while atleast. As time went on i got angry and disoriented. I grabbed a nearby knife and slit the throat of the man sitting next me.
I gave myself little time to analyze it. He handed me the gorgeous circlet without a moments hesitation and I couldn’t help but love it the moment it graced my finger tips. The silver tipped jewels were adorned with tiny dust-like diamonds that sparkled like an ocean under the light of high noon.
She adorned a funny look in her eyes. Head tilted to the side her soul begged to hear the right question. The words that would unlock her permanent spot within the wallpaper. She begged the background to release it’s firm hold.
I need to start creating. Something needs to fill these walls. Needs to find its way into the confinement of these unbought frames. I need to see what I think. When words are not enough.
People assume that since we take time and effort to adorn ourselves in certain clothing that we are shallow. But that’s far from it. Getting dressed is an art for us, a craft carefully practiced for years. What you see when I step outside is a result of hard work and self-awareness. Personal style is no small feat. It’s our way of loving ourselves, or some days, at least trying to love ourselves by hiding what we hate. No matter how you choose to adorn your body, take pride in it because it is a manifestation of who you are and who you want to be.
Chad set the christmas tree on fire. He said he was trying to do it the traditional German way. Fucking asshole. If I wanted Kraut influence on the tree I could have covered it in Schnitzel.
the door is adorned in posters of all kind and decorations. it looks very beautiful and cheery.its adorned in all colors from gold to black and has glitter all over.
i cant help but pity what i am because i know my potential is greater than what I can fathom. however… i have hope…. i have faith in superstition.. that my energy will succumb to me and bring me what life thinks I deserve. I still dont love myself. its kinda sad….
I really want a way out of this word. I don’t want to crave it. To want to be more beautiful. So much conflict comes with this word, but at the same time, it’s so stunting because it can never REALLY be fulfilled.
beautiful, wearing things that have meaning, temples, sigils…. I wear these things to remind me of the people I love and care for, so I can send them positive thoughts throughout the day. So I can keep what’s important in my head via being in front of my eyes. That is what adorned means to me. Decorated. Intentionally.
I will wear you inside out. Like the top of my eyelid. In leather adorned. In burnt skin you stretch across me. And I wear you like a glove, i wear you out until you are too tired to move on.
She looked beautiful. Her dress was pure shimmering white. Her pale skin was soft and smooth. Her hair was adorned with a crown of flowers, so intricate, so beautiful it looked other worldly. She was the perfect bride.
Except for the soul-deep sadness in her eyes, and the slightly forced edge of her smile. Yes, she was beautiful, but what was beauty when happiness was forever forsaken?
I would like to know how it feels like to be adorned. I see adorned people everyday, popular persons whom make other peoples’ day. Makes me wonder if I’ll be missed, not because of death or anything, but if I’m missing.
his neck is adorned by black and blue;
he wears his bruises with pride,
grins despite the blood on his teeth.
his fists are battered and torn,
skin peeling and scratches exposing pink,
bones shaken but not shattered.
it’s not just a bar fight or a graceless spin;
he says it’s a victory
( punched the other guy’s nose in,
felt it crack beneath his knuckles,
felt it /pop/ to a beat )
there aren’t any wounds to lick,
no scabs to pick at,
just blood and adrenalin and two consenting souls
waltzing like clumsy children
( there is no glory in violence,
but you do have to admit
that you can breathe better despite your battered ribs )
her love for him adorned him in her eyes. Her eyes were the only ones that mattered. He was confused but disregarded his confusion for her adorning.
The clothes he wore adorned his body. Even if he could not see it, I thought him to be beautiful.
With or without clothes.
But they fitted him, like a frame fits a picture, they made the edges less rough and the inside shimmer like the stars.
today was her day. the day for which she had been waiting for ages. she stood there silent, waiting for him in her beautiful velvet, off white dress, with a majestic clip embellishing her silky smooth hair.
and there he was, with a bouquet of roses in his hand, he gave her an excited look. her lips curved into a smile, which adorned her threefold than before.
She was adorned with hands and old books. The light caught her in mid-smile, the ivory of her skin radiating it back into the room like one of the bounces in my studio. The hands were of paper and ink and the books elevated her feet. She lounged like a queen. I saw her as a dream.
the piece was still there up on the wall. A paining of her crying under water. Smiling, waiting to be appreciated. eyes passed by and no one cared. but it lay there, the wall adorned.
her fingers sparkled in the sun, weighed down by her heavy holy rings. whenever a traveler from a foreign land would visit her, they would have to bow down with their face towards the ground and gently kiss the top of her most ornate stone, a large sapphire that glistened like deep pools of water, pools that would reflect the eyes of the traveler back up at them.
he adorned her a cloth that was made so fine that no matter how many time she felt it she still never knew it was on her shoulders. He tried to sooth her into the rest of the clothing but no matter how much he tried she kept staring at her dead husbands body as the blood spilled out his body onto the cold ground around him.
Her face was adorned with whiskers of silver. Her upper lip was the silver lining of the storm cloud that hung, ever present, fat with doom above her bed.
She adorned herself with people in way a little girl would use plastic jewels and sparkly trinkets. She used them to make herself look beautiful, feel special and seem wanted.
Woman feels to be very beautiful when she is adorned with expensive jewerly.
she was adorned with flowers..her hair, her neck, even her arms were decked in bracelets made of beautiful white flowers.. In the glow of the moonlight, she looked like an angel sent down from the heavens; an angel who was so naturally beautiful, that she could leave anyone breathless.
well painted, colored, picturesque
Decked up beautiful dressed concerned with one”s physical appearance.tradionlly associated with women.
There are ropes around her wrists—the coarse, homemade type that surely tears at the delicate skin of her arms. Still, she doesn’t flinch. She raises a single, trembling hand to point us out of the group. There are things attached to the ropes, ornamentation, adorning her arms and making a macabre symphony of jingling clanks in the wake of her movement. Things like shells, like teeth, like so many bones.
Pieces of us will be joining them soon.
Can you be adorned by an emotion?
adorned golden tremble sticks, flashing waggers fancy timing. sister luck and wondermint tea. hot to the touch, glistening in the sun. the table is iron and netted, the ants crawl through the ovals like scuba guys back to the boat. treetops bending toward the sunlight. poppyseed.
The woman was waiting for her date to show up she adorned her best dress with a pin her mother had given to her for luck, she checked her make up one more time then glanced at the clock he’s late she thought and frowned hoping she wasn’t getting stood up again.
I wore the velvet and the red crimson flowed, adorned in the finery such as I’ve never before borne. You’re the fire, the mist and the earth, adorned with a crown of stars hanging from the eyes deep in celestial blues and blacks.
You adorned my every thought and consumed my every moment. Now, all you adorn are my memories.
to be loved by you
through cracked cement and bellowing clouds
I pray for confliction among the worry-trodden tracks
of daylight in my retinal memory
when we were young there was nothing more
and nothing less
than
to be loved by you
adore and adorned.
what you love and what lovely you put on.
an object caressed with your attention.
Um this makes me think of the promo for Cinderella Revival on broadway. they made up a song that was Baby Got Back but with Glass Slippers and it made me laugh for 20 minutes straight. Santino Fontana I freaking love you for writing that <3
I really adorned everyone at the party. That was the case for a little while atleast. As time went on i got angry and disoriented. I grabbed a nearby knife and slit the throat of the man sitting next me.
I gave myself little time to analyze it. He handed me the gorgeous circlet without a moments hesitation and I couldn’t help but love it the moment it graced my finger tips. The silver tipped jewels were adorned with tiny dust-like diamonds that sparkled like an ocean under the light of high noon.
She adorned a funny look in her eyes. Head tilted to the side her soul begged to hear the right question. The words that would unlock her permanent spot within the wallpaper. She begged the background to release it’s firm hold.
I need to start creating. Something needs to fill these walls. Needs to find its way into the confinement of these unbought frames. I need to see what I think. When words are not enough.
People assume that since we take time and effort to adorn ourselves in certain clothing that we are shallow. But that’s far from it. Getting dressed is an art for us, a craft carefully practiced for years. What you see when I step outside is a result of hard work and self-awareness. Personal style is no small feat. It’s our way of loving ourselves, or some days, at least trying to love ourselves by hiding what we hate. No matter how you choose to adorn your body, take pride in it because it is a manifestation of who you are and who you want to be.
uhhhh something that’s made more beautiful or attractive
My tree is adorned with memories of people I love… and loved.
Pop, Grandma, Auntie Michelle…
And then the lot of you… heartbreakers and branch trimmers. Why does it hurt so much to say goodbye?
Chad set the christmas tree on fire. He said he was trying to do it the traditional German way. Fucking asshole. If I wanted Kraut influence on the tree I could have covered it in Schnitzel.
her breasts adorned her figure like ornaments on a christmas tree, perfectly and with exact festivity.
the door is adorned in posters of all kind and decorations. it looks very beautiful and cheery.its adorned in all colors from gold to black and has glitter all over.
i cant help but pity what i am because i know my potential is greater than what I can fathom. however… i have hope…. i have faith in superstition.. that my energy will succumb to me and bring me what life thinks I deserve. I still dont love myself. its kinda sad….
I really want a way out of this word. I don’t want to crave it. To want to be more beautiful. So much conflict comes with this word, but at the same time, it’s so stunting because it can never REALLY be fulfilled.
To make more beautiful or attractive. What do I have to do to be more intelligent and not need over a minute to remember what that word means….?
beautiful, wearing things that have meaning, temples, sigils…. I wear these things to remind me of the people I love and care for, so I can send them positive thoughts throughout the day. So I can keep what’s important in my head via being in front of my eyes. That is what adorned means to me. Decorated. Intentionally.
I will wear you inside out. Like the top of my eyelid. In leather adorned. In burnt skin you stretch across me. And I wear you like a glove, i wear you out until you are too tired to move on.