she carried the sack of bones everywhere, not knowing what they were. the family that took her in knew that the bad luck would not leave the house until the bones were buried, until the bodies were surrounded by earth.
The smell of blood was everywhere. My Boyfriend had killed my parents and know was harvesting their bones. So, we could sell them on the black market and run away together. This was my fairytale.
i believe bones are great i like the serie bones but im not that fan.There is gonna be another season.I dont now how many bones are in the body. I dont want to learn them causeit may be boring.
bones. bones. BONES. Oh My God they were bones. bones. dead corpses. my breathing came faster and faster echoing in the dank celler until they stopped altogether. how ironic.
the bones in my hands stick out like my mothers. it makes me feel like i’m more like her now. now that i’m thinner, thinned out from harsh stress, but still more mature and have found real love. and I am not so fattened by childish ways and crushes and things that only the young have plenty of. but i hope part of me is still chubby. but preferably not my butt.
And that was the last he’d seen of her. The yellowing mediums stained with dirt, the life so far away. He wondered what her life was like, so far back in the day. What is a million years, anyway?
The first time I ever saw a human bone was on a family hike through the Appalachians. It was a hot, humid, August day. I was being attacked by bugs, but that didn’t matter. I was happy to be out and about. That is, until I saw something smooth and white sticking out of the ground on the side of the trail.
Bone control would be a wicked power. But only if i can grow them at will. Cuz, if I couldn’t I’d just throw my bones everywhere and I’d be all “AGH I GOT NO BONES”.
someone told me about a year ago that i look like one of the guys from the tv show bones. not david boraneaz but the insect guy. I’d never heard that before. i have been told though that i look like jake gylenhaal and ryan gosling many times. thats interesting because those two dont look anything like each other. i’ve never considered acting a dream of mine.
Bones.
Flesh and bones, that is what we’re made of.
Skeletons,
Walking, pretending, that maybe
We can be something else, something
More.
But no, at the end
We’re flesh and bones. Flesh and bones.
bones are hard structures in the body that give the body stability. they are what make the body fundamentally strong, along with the muscles and organs of the body. bones can be fractured and broken, but they can also be healed. just like the human spirit.
bones make me happy. bones remind me of thin. bones are what i want to see. hipbones, collarbones, ribs. bones mean skinny. skinny means perfect and beautiful. bones mean frail and small. yet bones are what hold you together.
You could see all of her bones, she was so thin. She hadn’t really eaten in days. She had lost seventeen pounds in three weeks. It was due to the stress of all of it. He thought he had it hard, he had no idea, he might have been the one that was dying but he wasn’t the one that looked like it. She was all bone by now, she was losing weight that she couldn’t really afford to lose in the first place.
Keep us upright, keep us from being pools of jello. They breaks when were old, bend when were young and we can strengthen them or weaken them. Made, like everything else on this planet, from matter that’s already here. Nothing new under the sun
I can feel it in my bones. They are the ones who tell me if I’m tired, if I’m sad or If I should give up. But my heart is the one who decides to listen or not to.
This reminds me of the tv show. It is a slightly frightening idea like skeltons and stuff. and it evokes a sad emotion from me because it reminds me of brutal deaths. It weird i guess thinking about death now while typing. i also think that the color of the work is cool.
The bones were found in the basement…or so they told me. I had my doubts about this, though. I wasn’t sure why, but from the moment I walked up to 103 Maple Avenue, I felt like something was wrong. This wasn’t my first case, I had been in the field for years investigating crimes. But this one was different. The bones were unusual for starters. they were human, but they were deformed in a way I had never seen before
The bones of some dead creature littered the floor of Old Mr. Miller’s house. Long abandoned, that house sat on the corner of my street for much of my childhood, inspiring fear and legend. One day, I was brave enough to enter, and I saw those bones with my own eyes.
The bones underneath the ground, I feel them. These people were once living, breathing, dreaming. Just like you and me. Did they ever think about death? Think about what their bodies would be like, twenty, fifty, one hundred years afterwards? Decaying, nothing left but dust?
the bones are shining white against the dark asphalt of the parking lot. It’s almost beautiful, the stark frankness of the white bones against a mundane parking lot. I am disturbed by this sight though- why are they there? Why will no one pick them up? Am I the only one who can see them?
The bones of many were scattered about the place. Crunching under ones foot as needles or rocks would. Dark red covered it, and the feet of those it came from.
Bones. That’s what the placard read: Bones, Private Eye. If it could be called a placard. It was just the words written in Sharpie on a piece of scrap wood nailed to the clubhouse door. It looked hokey at best. But I entered anyway.
“UH, hello?”
Someone stirred. A boy in a black wool coat turned on a swivel chair.
I had managed to bury two shells into Barney’s tiny little leg. Violet colored blood oozed over the shrapnel-like pieces of his shattered fibula. I thought it would slow him down, but the shot only fueled his anger. I made another run for it.
we left bones in the yard but we didn’t leave a stone, the new neighbors won’t know… the things that we keep in the closet and don’t want others to know about… blindfold the gravedigger’s eyes, he won’t know, nobody will know
Bones. Big bones for dogs come in all sizes. They don’t care if it’s small or large. They love the smell of bones and could spend all day roaming for bones.
There are more bones in the body than we care to think about. Every time we walk and run and jump there is so much pressure applied to them that if we could actually see how it happens we would take much better care of them. Luckily for me I have never broejKe
They are the middle of your body, the structure upon which you are built, chalk white when dead yet red and humming with blood when alive. They are the basis of form, of posture, of the way we twist and turn. Without bones we don’t live, we don’t move. We are stuck and stagnant, unable to change or adjust. We are nothing more than statues, unable to change the world, only able to watch what passes by- silent eyes watching the world.
Bones are like death, they start to fade a wear away but they’re never gone. A scary reminder always present in life, because of their strength it shows that the dead are never gone, but only a small part of them remains after they are gone from the physical world. Souls fly up to heaven, and bones remain on earth.
I was walking through the woods one day and I saw a pile of bones. They were white and looked like they had been washed by the sun, only that would’ve been impossible because I was in the middle of a forest where barely any sun gets through to bleach them like that.
They are hard and white, they support you and carry you around. They break easily without calcium. they are inside everyone . when they splinter it hurts they are full of marrow. I’ve never broken one
For some reason, the word bones fills me with a childlike, thrilling fear. I can hear dry sounds. I can smell stale air. I can feel heat, bare heat against my skin. Bones is a summer word. But it’s not a good summer word I’ve come to love, like sweet and tryst and sunshine and daylight, it’s one of those summer-slasher-fic words that we all go to see though our parents tell us not to. It’s forbidden. It’s dangerous. It rolls so easily off the tongue. I am a child filled with fear.
When I think bones I think of a skeleton. and that book the lonely bones. people that aren’t here anymore. dead people. ew. and i think of medical school where they try to name all of the bones on the dead people which is weird because they used to be alive. that’s creepy. bones are in pirate movies too. i like pirates
There they were. In the middle of a field. Clean, but not as if they’d been gnawed on. Wow. After a moment he took off his jacket and wrapped them up. A whole deer. How often do you find that?
i enjoy bones. bones are like wieners. wiener bones. sex. titties. djkhfgxdjhzjgx. bones. i like bones. sometimes. wiener bones. bones of the wiener. wieners don’t havwirttgdfse bones… i don’t think so anyways. 8o;uefg
she carried the sack of bones everywhere, not knowing what they were. the family that took her in knew that the bad luck would not leave the house until the bones were buried, until the bodies were surrounded by earth.
The smell of blood was everywhere. My Boyfriend had killed my parents and know was harvesting their bones. So, we could sell them on the black market and run away together. This was my fairytale.
i believe bones are great i like the serie bones but im not that fan.There is gonna be another season.I dont now how many bones are in the body. I dont want to learn them causeit may be boring.
bones. bones. BONES. Oh My God they were bones. bones. dead corpses. my breathing came faster and faster echoing in the dank celler until they stopped altogether. how ironic.
the bones in my hands stick out like my mothers. it makes me feel like i’m more like her now. now that i’m thinner, thinned out from harsh stress, but still more mature and have found real love. and I am not so fattened by childish ways and crushes and things that only the young have plenty of. but i hope part of me is still chubby. but preferably not my butt.
My bones. Its like fire shut up in my bones.
And that was the last he’d seen of her. The yellowing mediums stained with dirt, the life so far away. He wondered what her life was like, so far back in the day. What is a million years, anyway?
The first time I ever saw a human bone was on a family hike through the Appalachians. It was a hot, humid, August day. I was being attacked by bugs, but that didn’t matter. I was happy to be out and about. That is, until I saw something smooth and white sticking out of the ground on the side of the trail.
Bone control would be a wicked power. But only if i can grow them at will. Cuz, if I couldn’t I’d just throw my bones everywhere and I’d be all “AGH I GOT NO BONES”.
bones are what help me stand up straight and not sag to the floor like a bag of mushy organs and crap.
I love my bones, and they love me.
Thank you bones for supporting me throughout my life.
-Byron
someone told me about a year ago that i look like one of the guys from the tv show bones. not david boraneaz but the insect guy. I’d never heard that before. i have been told though that i look like jake gylenhaal and ryan gosling many times. thats interesting because those two dont look anything like each other. i’ve never considered acting a dream of mine.
Bones.
Flesh and bones, that is what we’re made of.
Skeletons,
Walking, pretending, that maybe
We can be something else, something
More.
But no, at the end
We’re flesh and bones. Flesh and bones.
bones are hard structures in the body that give the body stability. they are what make the body fundamentally strong, along with the muscles and organs of the body. bones can be fractured and broken, but they can also be healed. just like the human spirit.
bones make me happy. bones remind me of thin. bones are what i want to see. hipbones, collarbones, ribs. bones mean skinny. skinny means perfect and beautiful. bones mean frail and small. yet bones are what hold you together.
You could see all of her bones, she was so thin. She hadn’t really eaten in days. She had lost seventeen pounds in three weeks. It was due to the stress of all of it. He thought he had it hard, he had no idea, he might have been the one that was dying but he wasn’t the one that looked like it. She was all bone by now, she was losing weight that she couldn’t really afford to lose in the first place.
Keep us upright, keep us from being pools of jello. They breaks when were old, bend when were young and we can strengthen them or weaken them. Made, like everything else on this planet, from matter that’s already here. Nothing new under the sun
I can feel it in my bones. They are the ones who tell me if I’m tired, if I’m sad or If I should give up. But my heart is the one who decides to listen or not to.
This reminds me of the tv show. It is a slightly frightening idea like skeltons and stuff. and it evokes a sad emotion from me because it reminds me of brutal deaths. It weird i guess thinking about death now while typing. i also think that the color of the work is cool.
The bones were found in the basement…or so they told me. I had my doubts about this, though. I wasn’t sure why, but from the moment I walked up to 103 Maple Avenue, I felt like something was wrong. This wasn’t my first case, I had been in the field for years investigating crimes. But this one was different. The bones were unusual for starters. they were human, but they were deformed in a way I had never seen before
the structure of the human body , holds us up
we can trust our bones but not others in the time of need
The bones of some dead creature littered the floor of Old Mr. Miller’s house. Long abandoned, that house sat on the corner of my street for much of my childhood, inspiring fear and legend. One day, I was brave enough to enter, and I saw those bones with my own eyes.
Her bones grew frail with time. Her love grew cold. And death always set next to her on the bus.
The bones underneath the ground, I feel them. These people were once living, breathing, dreaming. Just like you and me. Did they ever think about death? Think about what their bodies would be like, twenty, fifty, one hundred years afterwards? Decaying, nothing left but dust?
the bones are shining white against the dark asphalt of the parking lot. It’s almost beautiful, the stark frankness of the white bones against a mundane parking lot. I am disturbed by this sight though- why are they there? Why will no one pick them up? Am I the only one who can see them?
The bones of many were scattered about the place. Crunching under ones foot as needles or rocks would. Dark red covered it, and the feet of those it came from.
Blood from the bones.
Only the owners.
Bones. That’s what the placard read: Bones, Private Eye. If it could be called a placard. It was just the words written in Sharpie on a piece of scrap wood nailed to the clubhouse door. It looked hokey at best. But I entered anyway.
“UH, hello?”
Someone stirred. A boy in a black wool coat turned on a swivel chair.
“Are you looking for Bones?”
He use white bones on top of his head as a hat and wear long black robe. His awkward appearance somehow bring mythical atmosphere to wherever he goes.
I had managed to bury two shells into Barney’s tiny little leg. Violet colored blood oozed over the shrapnel-like pieces of his shattered fibula. I thought it would slow him down, but the shot only fueled his anger. I made another run for it.
we left bones in the yard but we didn’t leave a stone, the new neighbors won’t know… the things that we keep in the closet and don’t want others to know about… blindfold the gravedigger’s eyes, he won’t know, nobody will know
Bones. Big bones for dogs come in all sizes. They don’t care if it’s small or large. They love the smell of bones and could spend all day roaming for bones.
There are more bones in the body than we care to think about. Every time we walk and run and jump there is so much pressure applied to them that if we could actually see how it happens we would take much better care of them. Luckily for me I have never broejKe
They are the middle of your body, the structure upon which you are built, chalk white when dead yet red and humming with blood when alive. They are the basis of form, of posture, of the way we twist and turn. Without bones we don’t live, we don’t move. We are stuck and stagnant, unable to change or adjust. We are nothing more than statues, unable to change the world, only able to watch what passes by- silent eyes watching the world.
Bones are like death, they start to fade a wear away but they’re never gone. A scary reminder always present in life, because of their strength it shows that the dead are never gone, but only a small part of them remains after they are gone from the physical world. Souls fly up to heaven, and bones remain on earth.
I was walking through the woods one day and I saw a pile of bones. They were white and looked like they had been washed by the sun, only that would’ve been impossible because I was in the middle of a forest where barely any sun gets through to bleach them like that.
They are hard and white, they support you and carry you around. They break easily without calcium. they are inside everyone . when they splinter it hurts they are full of marrow. I’ve never broken one
skeletons, no skin, no fat, white, cocaine, starved, africa, death, holocaust jews
For some reason, the word bones fills me with a childlike, thrilling fear. I can hear dry sounds. I can smell stale air. I can feel heat, bare heat against my skin. Bones is a summer word. But it’s not a good summer word I’ve come to love, like sweet and tryst and sunshine and daylight, it’s one of those summer-slasher-fic words that we all go to see though our parents tell us not to. It’s forbidden. It’s dangerous. It rolls so easily off the tongue. I am a child filled with fear.
When I think bones I think of a skeleton. and that book the lonely bones. people that aren’t here anymore. dead people. ew. and i think of medical school where they try to name all of the bones on the dead people which is weird because they used to be alive. that’s creepy. bones are in pirate movies too. i like pirates
There they were. In the middle of a field. Clean, but not as if they’d been gnawed on. Wow. After a moment he took off his jacket and wrapped them up. A whole deer. How often do you find that?
i enjoy bones. bones are like wieners. wiener bones. sex. titties. djkhfgxdjhzjgx. bones. i like bones. sometimes. wiener bones. bones of the wiener. wieners don’t havwirttgdfse bones… i don’t think so anyways. 8o;uefg