the heart fallen
blood all around
sullen cries of wonder
slashes on the arm abound
where life must end
full of times forgot
of souls that mend
bleeding hearts must stop
Days and days of annoyance, frustration and anger had piled and piled, till he had finally snapped, feeling he couldn’t keep all of this inside him anymore. And now that the had started shouting, crying and spitting out the truth, he realized he wasn’t able to stop.
Words were bleeding out his mouth, burning like fire during their whole way out, yet washing him inside like cool water. He couldn’t stop them, but he didn’t really wanted to. It was gratifying, fulfilling, liberating. It made him feel as free as he hadn’t felt in ages.
Then, abrubtly as it had begun, it stopped, leaving him exhausted and empty, but also relieved. Sometimes, some things just couldn’t stay buried.
She looked down at her hands and couldn’t understand what had happened. One second everything was fine. Now thigns were not ok. They would probably never be ok again. She thought this would feel good, like she was getting justice.
He lied on the ground, bleeding. Not blood. But everything else. He was bleeding out everything that he loved. Everything that mattered to him, rushing out his body. Never to come back.
She was scared and bleeding. She knew she meant the world to him but it just wasn’t enough this time. She dropped the hairdryer into the tub that she was taking a bath in. This time was goodbye.
I was bleeding love. i was cut open by your amazing looks and your clever words and before i knew it i was hommoraghing all of the emotions I could possibly feel all over the floor. I would like to say that it’s my fault, but it’s not. it’s yours. I’m bleeding to death and it’s your fault.
Caius was bleeding all over the freshly waxed floor in the hallway outside of Tobias’s office. His wrists gushed deep, startling red; as red as his face was white, as his lips were blue. In the very back of his mind, Tobias thought how strange it was that so many countries chose for their flags the colours of death.
The cold stone floor is covered with crimson red, pouring from the body lying on the ground. I shiver as I remember the feeling of bumping into that body with my feet and then realizing who it was, lying there motionless. I’m sure it will be a while before I can sleep again.
It was a pain that felt as if she were bleeding from every vessel in her body. like knifes had slashed her and everything was pouring out. she’d never felt this way before. she was queen bee she didnt care what people thought of what she did. But now he’d killed himself because of it, and she felt the pain.
horrible horrible death and destruction, the very word brings disgusting images to my head and I’m sure everyone else’s. TV programmes and films have twisted the harsh reality of bleeding into a horrible game
I look down at my mangled finger. The result of another drinking binge gone too far. I’m walking throughout my sisters apartment, finding trails of my own blood scattered throughout the living room. I wonder what happened. Another blackout. Why am I bleeding? Why is everyone so mad?
I’ve done it again, haven’t I?
blood is red. i like the taste of blood. i don’t understand why people are afraid of blood, its one of our most natural bodily fluids. when someone bleeds, i don’t know if i help him.
one day i was cut bleeeding to badly i didnt know what to do than someone came to may savoir i didnt knw how they knew i was at the bottem of the river but i was and they foun it oyt it was likeit was ment to happen butin some crazy way i wanted to see my familyagain but i knew i would never see them unless this person saved me
Bleeding into the shore were clouds of soapy scum and as the yellow foam covered the legs of the shoreline birds, ..I reflected that bleeding consists of the timeless merging of worlds.
When so much red befalls her absentminded skin, it peels back layers she has yet to know. Pieces of herself, floating, lost, exploding in waves of color.
His nose was bleeding. He had hit his head hard when he fell down the stairs. Blood running. What a forceful colour! He was astonished by the darkness of his own blood, which he had rarely seen.
I couldn’t stop it. I tried to hold it in but it just kept on flowing. A red waterfall of nutrients and life dripped down my forearm and onto the bathroom floor. It was as if my consciousness had welded itself to this liquid, and as it poured out I began to fade slowly.
th3e force of the knife against the skin was like a catalyst of chemical force and everyone was watching the dream. i laid in the dark for a long time and listened to the microscopic sounds of the blade splitting each cell slowly. slow
pain. ink. water. that day I dropped your letter in the rain. the way the blue bled into the lines. blood. when i think of you now, that’s what i remember
Bleeding. I hate it. It’s messy and sickening and just shows how human we all are. How mortal. It’s like a little piece of you dies every time you bleed. But I guess you could say the same about every time you cut your hair or clip your nails. But it’s worse when it’s blood, because it’s inside of you. From your heart.
She was bleeding. Why could she never shave her legs without cutting herself?
She used a washcloth to wipe it up. She didn’t finish shaving, she just grabbed a towel and dried off. She was in a hurry today. Why did she even bother shaving, when she would be wearing boots anyway?
While in Spain, I had the most horrific experience of my life: babysitting a fussy 5-year old. Everything was going relatively smoothly until a nosebleed struck, throwing me a curveball. As I try and comfort him (all while avoiding passing out), I realized something about myself that I hadn’t previously known…
My finger was bleeding Saturday when I cut it on the door handle. It wouldn’t stop and I didn’t have a bandaid. I applied pressure for several minutes.
He walked in and saw the blood. Years from now that was the one thing her would never get our of his head; that and the guilt. He would never forgive himself for fact that for the hours that she lay there bleeding he was just down the hall planning the perfect moment to propose. He wanted her hand but no he can only see her wrist; he wanted her life and she gave it to him.
I stood and watched the liquid ooze from the hole in her side. It was viscous, thick; I could sense how warm and sticky it would feel from 5 feet away. A Merlot, wasted, seeping through the cracks in the hardwood floor beneath her crumpled body.
The man was bleeding, the wound was deep and looked infected. “Charlie, can you hear me?” Mary asked as the doctors quickly put him on a stretcher and put him in the ambuliance. “Yes…” He said then began coughing. “If I die…” “No! Don’t say such things! You are going to live!” Mary said, sobbing. “If I die,” He started again. “Just remember I am going to a better place.” Mary sobbed and held his hand. “I know… I know.” He coughed again and said. “I love you.” “I love you too.” Mary said and watched as the doctors carried him into the hospital, leaving her alone in the parking lot, sobbing.
internal bleeding is the kind of bleeding i fear the most. when you can’t see what is happening apart from a bruse or a pale face. it’s like dolorousness. i am so afraid of those
My dad always talked about “those bleeding-heart liberals” like they were monsters. He’d sit me down and tell me he didn’t want my teachers and professors brainwashing me with their liberal agenda of terror. So how do I tell him that, in the next election, I’m voting for Hilary?
it simply did not stop trickling down. minute after minute, the light, sparkling fluid dripped and thudded heavily to the ground without ever ceasing its current. it splashed off from the window and ran down the walls before finally pooling in tiny glossy lakes above the earth. — eventually the rain stopped.
For every word that falls from your mouth another needle pierces my heart and draws the life from within me. A bloodless heart for as you poke and prod it drips along its casing and seeps throughout my core, slowly killing me from the inside out.
feeling the blood pouring from the skin as a scream emerges from the lungs
the warmth of the trickle
the fear in the eyes
the psychopathic laugh from the murderer
and the last flicker of life
BANG!
:D
there are a million ways to bleed out. The most proper of the kinds is from the heart, up through the gugular and out through the mouth. words streaming out like veins branching your tree of life heritage/ you can say a million things in one sentence and in one and a million ways your have bled/bleed the soul/bleed the way you live
i feel like my feelings and emotions are bleeding through my heart on my sleeve. time to make some changes and cauterize this wound. need to stop letting others harms me….
“Bleeding heart”– that’s what they called him, but he couldn’t reconcile it with the way that he acted. The way he moved. There was something predatory about his magic, about the way he did things. His accomplishments were great, yes, and it was for a good cause; but they didn’t always agree with his methods. The means was not always justified by the end.
I donated a pint of blood today. that’s about a water bottle full. It wasn’t too bad i just sat and waited for about twenty minutes, which was cool because i got to miss some of my classes due to filling out forms, and the actual process of draining blood.
the heart fallen
blood all around
sullen cries of wonder
slashes on the arm abound
where life must end
full of times forgot
of souls that mend
bleeding hearts must stop
Days and days of annoyance, frustration and anger had piled and piled, till he had finally snapped, feeling he couldn’t keep all of this inside him anymore. And now that the had started shouting, crying and spitting out the truth, he realized he wasn’t able to stop.
Words were bleeding out his mouth, burning like fire during their whole way out, yet washing him inside like cool water. He couldn’t stop them, but he didn’t really wanted to. It was gratifying, fulfilling, liberating. It made him feel as free as he hadn’t felt in ages.
Then, abrubtly as it had begun, it stopped, leaving him exhausted and empty, but also relieved. Sometimes, some things just couldn’t stay buried.
She looked down at her hands and couldn’t understand what had happened. One second everything was fine. Now thigns were not ok. They would probably never be ok again. She thought this would feel good, like she was getting justice.
I am bleeding through the millions of veins in my body to my brain, my toes, my fingers, my heart.
He lied on the ground, bleeding. Not blood. But everything else. He was bleeding out everything that he loved. Everything that mattered to him, rushing out his body. Never to come back.
Ah I hate bleeding. Bleeding love. :D
She was scared and bleeding. She knew she meant the world to him but it just wasn’t enough this time. She dropped the hairdryer into the tub that she was taking a bath in. This time was goodbye.
I was bleeding love. i was cut open by your amazing looks and your clever words and before i knew it i was hommoraghing all of the emotions I could possibly feel all over the floor. I would like to say that it’s my fault, but it’s not. it’s yours. I’m bleeding to death and it’s your fault.
Caius was bleeding all over the freshly waxed floor in the hallway outside of Tobias’s office. His wrists gushed deep, startling red; as red as his face was white, as his lips were blue. In the very back of his mind, Tobias thought how strange it was that so many countries chose for their flags the colours of death.
The cold stone floor is covered with crimson red, pouring from the body lying on the ground. I shiver as I remember the feeling of bumping into that body with my feet and then realizing who it was, lying there motionless. I’m sure it will be a while before I can sleep again.
It was a pain that felt as if she were bleeding from every vessel in her body. like knifes had slashed her and everything was pouring out. she’d never felt this way before. she was queen bee she didnt care what people thought of what she did. But now he’d killed himself because of it, and she felt the pain.
horrible horrible death and destruction, the very word brings disgusting images to my head and I’m sure everyone else’s. TV programmes and films have twisted the harsh reality of bleeding into a horrible game
I look down at my mangled finger. The result of another drinking binge gone too far. I’m walking throughout my sisters apartment, finding trails of my own blood scattered throughout the living room. I wonder what happened. Another blackout. Why am I bleeding? Why is everyone so mad?
I’ve done it again, haven’t I?
blood is red. i like the taste of blood. i don’t understand why people are afraid of blood, its one of our most natural bodily fluids. when someone bleeds, i don’t know if i help him.
one day i was cut bleeeding to badly i didnt know what to do than someone came to may savoir i didnt knw how they knew i was at the bottem of the river but i was and they foun it oyt it was likeit was ment to happen butin some crazy way i wanted to see my familyagain but i knew i would never see them unless this person saved me
Bleeding into the shore were clouds of soapy scum and as the yellow foam covered the legs of the shoreline birds, ..I reflected that bleeding consists of the timeless merging of worlds.
When so much red befalls her absentminded skin, it peels back layers she has yet to know. Pieces of herself, floating, lost, exploding in waves of color.
His nose was bleeding. He had hit his head hard when he fell down the stairs. Blood running. What a forceful colour! He was astonished by the darkness of his own blood, which he had rarely seen.
I couldn’t stop it. I tried to hold it in but it just kept on flowing. A red waterfall of nutrients and life dripped down my forearm and onto the bathroom floor. It was as if my consciousness had welded itself to this liquid, and as it poured out I began to fade slowly.
th3e force of the knife against the skin was like a catalyst of chemical force and everyone was watching the dream. i laid in the dark for a long time and listened to the microscopic sounds of the blade splitting each cell slowly. slow
pain. ink. water. that day I dropped your letter in the rain. the way the blue bled into the lines. blood. when i think of you now, that’s what i remember
Bleeding. I hate it. It’s messy and sickening and just shows how human we all are. How mortal. It’s like a little piece of you dies every time you bleed. But I guess you could say the same about every time you cut your hair or clip your nails. But it’s worse when it’s blood, because it’s inside of you. From your heart.
She was bleeding. Why could she never shave her legs without cutting herself?
She used a washcloth to wipe it up. She didn’t finish shaving, she just grabbed a towel and dried off. She was in a hurry today. Why did she even bother shaving, when she would be wearing boots anyway?
While in Spain, I had the most horrific experience of my life: babysitting a fussy 5-year old. Everything was going relatively smoothly until a nosebleed struck, throwing me a curveball. As I try and comfort him (all while avoiding passing out), I realized something about myself that I hadn’t previously known…
My finger was bleeding Saturday when I cut it on the door handle. It wouldn’t stop and I didn’t have a bandaid. I applied pressure for several minutes.
He walked in and saw the blood. Years from now that was the one thing her would never get our of his head; that and the guilt. He would never forgive himself for fact that for the hours that she lay there bleeding he was just down the hall planning the perfect moment to propose. He wanted her hand but no he can only see her wrist; he wanted her life and she gave it to him.
I stood and watched the liquid ooze from the hole in her side. It was viscous, thick; I could sense how warm and sticky it would feel from 5 feet away. A Merlot, wasted, seeping through the cracks in the hardwood floor beneath her crumpled body.
The man was bleeding, the wound was deep and looked infected. “Charlie, can you hear me?” Mary asked as the doctors quickly put him on a stretcher and put him in the ambuliance. “Yes…” He said then began coughing. “If I die…” “No! Don’t say such things! You are going to live!” Mary said, sobbing. “If I die,” He started again. “Just remember I am going to a better place.” Mary sobbed and held his hand. “I know… I know.” He coughed again and said. “I love you.” “I love you too.” Mary said and watched as the doctors carried him into the hospital, leaving her alone in the parking lot, sobbing.
internal bleeding is the kind of bleeding i fear the most. when you can’t see what is happening apart from a bruse or a pale face. it’s like dolorousness. i am so afraid of those
My dad always talked about “those bleeding-heart liberals” like they were monsters. He’d sit me down and tell me he didn’t want my teachers and professors brainwashing me with their liberal agenda of terror. So how do I tell him that, in the next election, I’m voting for Hilary?
it simply did not stop trickling down. minute after minute, the light, sparkling fluid dripped and thudded heavily to the ground without ever ceasing its current. it splashed off from the window and ran down the walls before finally pooling in tiny glossy lakes above the earth. — eventually the rain stopped.
Extrange sensation when you´re running out of blood. Love is like bleeding. It hurts, it makes you being aware you´re living. That simple.
For every word that falls from your mouth another needle pierces my heart and draws the life from within me. A bloodless heart for as you poke and prod it drips along its casing and seeps throughout my core, slowly killing me from the inside out.
feeling the blood pouring from the skin as a scream emerges from the lungs
the warmth of the trickle
the fear in the eyes
the psychopathic laugh from the murderer
and the last flicker of life
BANG!
:D
The walls bled, or cried, or sweat. The mind gets confused when inanimate things become animated. Any way, the behavior of the walls matched mine.
We’re bleeding out our insecurities.
Better go find that bandage, boy- don’t let ’em know you live.
there are a million ways to bleed out. The most proper of the kinds is from the heart, up through the gugular and out through the mouth. words streaming out like veins branching your tree of life heritage/ you can say a million things in one sentence and in one and a million ways your have bled/bleed the soul/bleed the way you live
i feel like my feelings and emotions are bleeding through my heart on my sleeve. time to make some changes and cauterize this wound. need to stop letting others harms me….
“Bleeding heart”– that’s what they called him, but he couldn’t reconcile it with the way that he acted. The way he moved. There was something predatory about his magic, about the way he did things. His accomplishments were great, yes, and it was for a good cause; but they didn’t always agree with his methods. The means was not always justified by the end.
I donated a pint of blood today. that’s about a water bottle full. It wasn’t too bad i just sat and waited for about twenty minutes, which was cool because i got to miss some of my classes due to filling out forms, and the actual process of draining blood.