well without you i was broken, but i’d rather be broke down with you by my side. jack johnson’s really good. holly likes him more than i do. but i still think he’s really good. broken is my favorite song from his curious george album. it just makes me so happy and makes me think of jeff because it’s just jeff-like. but not as much as call me when you get this by corinne bailey rae and fidelity by regina spektor.
something that no longer has any use to somebody but it might be filled with possibilities for somebody else. it’s how i feel when i can’t figure out what i want to do in the next year and i think my brain but also be broken because it doesn’t work the same as everybody else.
hearts would be the first word to come to mind, but of course that is probably the most obvious, luckily sometimes I think i have figured all that emotional heart crap out. I feel the pain and joy of love, but at the same time I know that time is all I need to move on and forget, and I do…just a few beers right afterthe pain.
I was walking down the street and fell down on the pavement when I had realized that I had broken my ankle. Oh dear I thought. What the fuck happened. I just sat there screaming for somebody, anybody, to come and help me but I was alone.
damnit. instant wirter’s block. i guess my mind is a little broken. fitting, because it’s the one thing that i wanted to get fired up again, working, back to fixed whole and engaged again. it’s been so long i’m not even sure how to begin… baby steps, baby steps
we are all a little broken inside, consider, the fragile broken heart. Makes you think, does one really care ? Or, are we all just silent witnesses to murder, on a daily basis ? Is it really murder, to break a heart, or is it just a signal that its time to let go of something we had, something so good and pure. Broken hearts, murder ? I think so. Kill a heart.
Hearts, promises, tv’s, computers, cars. I used to say “I am bent, but not broke”. That was before I became ill. Now I am broke but my spirit is not broken. Makes it hard though when other things get broken, no money to get them fixed, ya know? I fell in love when I was 23, he broke my heart, and disappeared. I found him again, 40 years later, this time he repaired my broken heart, only to leave me for a new existence on another plane. He is an angel now, I guess, for all his faults and shortcomings. He finally told me that he loved me. I love him still, and when he died, my heart broke again but not for the same reasons I had when I was 23. So here I am, talking to strangers about being broken. Nope, I am sad at the loss of him, but his love did make me whole again, and I know it won’t take another 40 years till we are together once again.
spoiled. Heart. love. missing. glasses. breaking glass, smashed. to pieces. gone with the wind. spirit. body. heart and soul. broken man. poor, homeless. lost ans alone.
broken that sux. means like u cant use it anymore. oh well if something broke for me, id just move on and find something else. but im not like all people. wtv im gonna go play boxhead…………..
It was a summer night. I can still feel your touch on my skin. The way you body looked in the soft summer glow. The way your breath broke the innocent mold of my body. I am forever broken by your touch. Your soft embrace, your sweet lips.
down beaten old hag destruction and death all around why did you create this world. What use is it to anyone. The repair shop is closed you can’t return this world. We are stuck with it.
broken is when you break something of course and its also a destoryed object and hurt feeling inside so have you ever had your heart broken well dats one way to feel broken on the inside sereiously im not ckiddiong
i’m a broken glass doll and you don’t heal wounds like these. it’s alright to critique my face, lungs, and words. this is a downpour of words you shouldn’t know. don’t hate yourself. i’m perfectly fine with being alone.
this is what you’ve done and not to myself
I feel whole and strawberry flavored.
you could mend it but this time you’ll go both ways:
Right and Wrong.
It feels good to be broken…sometimes.
i’ve been called broken before; it’s an old thing to say, from when my age began with a one as its first number, but it’s still true, as the numbers grow and the cracks continue to show.
people are broken. their dreams broken lifes are broken .. too bad .. but they can mend it but it all goes well finally.. sometime back i thought i was broken but that was just bulshit.. i just didnt have courage to mend myself. so i just want to tell everyone to be couraogues .
AM i broken? laying shattered into a million little pieces on the floor next to the trash can. Shards of endless suffering and paradoxical eternity slicing at the contentment, cutting through the
Brokenness of the soul is not the worst tragedy to efall mankind. Nietzsche was a broken man, but broken is the most beutiful state humanity created. And they did create it. Tragedy was not a natural state, it was born of ourselevs, and our broken society. We did not create brokenness, brokenness made us. And broke us.
With a cling and a clang, the exquisite wine glass which my late grandfather had left for me shattered into a billion unrecoverable fragments. Each fragment, glistening under the glaring sunlight. Each fragment, seemed as if it were sliting across my heart. My heart felt as if it had, like the broken wine glass, broke into a million fragments…
i think it is broken, u know it is. So why don’t you just go ahead and kill yourself now or live the rest of your live with no sex. The sex was too rough and now i am broken. How dare u try and put that in my ass.
i feel a tad broken i guess. i dont feel very happy anymore but i dont feel sad. when people tell me stories about bad things i dont feel sad or worried for them i just think about what expression im supposed to have and i make it. i dont have many broken items . my mouse broke the other day ;_;
alone, cold and frightened. My heart is always these things. Shattered, splintered into a million shards of sharp glass, scattered across the unforgiving ground. broken and hurt is what I am
I am broken. Shattered. It’s not that I can’t love again; it’s that I won’t. I can’t be broken like this again. Someone fix me, please! Only seams will hold me; I will never be the same.
I haven’t been this broken since they tossed me from a speeding car. And all you did was say one word: goodbye. it’s different – being broken on the inside. Worse, I think. Can it be fixed?
it sat there. unmoving. it sat there and stared at me, empty. like, the life and function had left it. and i sighed, as a pang of regret crossed through my mind. and looked at the catalogue for a new one.
hearts batter themselves against the window pane, looking for an escape from the locked in angony of rejection denial death despair damage damaged damaging lies that sufficate them.
Sometimes I feel like my life is broken. Like it keeps going around in circles and there’s nothing I can do to fix it. The brokenness makes me feel powerless. The truth is that I do have the power. Nobody else does, just me. I want to fix the brokenness.
I have broken many a thing
and it seems i’m back to swing
glasses round
and pizza slices
on the table
icecream spoons still droopy wet
with brownie chocolate
now on my bed
it seems its just another fase
that hopefully will only last
a couple of days…
“SON OF A-“
“Language!” An angry voice shouted from behind me.
“Well, I think my toe is broken!” I exclaimed limping over to my mother who knitting in the rocking chair in the corner.
“There’s nothing that can be done about a broken toe. Put some ice on it.”
I rolled my eyes and mumbled at her as I made my way int to the kitchen very slowly.
Something my family will never be. We have been tested several times, and I love what Nancy said last night: “Just circle the wagons” and off we go. Tight knit and protective, that’s us. I love what we have.
she stirred a cloud of dirt in the road and then watched it disappear, back to the same nothing it had been. dust and dirt and shit and rocks and gravel. she sighed and her breath was covered with a film of dust and she had never realized before how old the earth was.
my heart is broken going home will fix it but i dont know how to do tht i was hurt so bad now i wabt something more than i have i need more than i have
My heart, is broken. It will not be mended with gifts, just your love. Love me.
well without you i was broken, but i’d rather be broke down with you by my side. jack johnson’s really good. holly likes him more than i do. but i still think he’s really good. broken is my favorite song from his curious george album. it just makes me so happy and makes me think of jeff because it’s just jeff-like. but not as much as call me when you get this by corinne bailey rae and fidelity by regina spektor.
You are so broken. You are so flawed.
But is that bad? Is that wrong? Can you show me someone who is not? Can you show me someone who is whole?
We are humans. We are broken, but somehow through it all, that makes us beautiful. It makes us lovely.
Broken. This word has a pleasing sound to it, almost onomatopoeic. The hard “k” sound splits up the word, indeed breaks it.
Broken is also how I feel. Broken.
something that no longer has any use to somebody but it might be filled with possibilities for somebody else. it’s how i feel when i can’t figure out what i want to do in the next year and i think my brain but also be broken because it doesn’t work the same as everybody else.
hearts would be the first word to come to mind, but of course that is probably the most obvious, luckily sometimes I think i have figured all that emotional heart crap out. I feel the pain and joy of love, but at the same time I know that time is all I need to move on and forget, and I do…just a few beers right afterthe pain.
my pencil broke. and it choose a bad to do that. clock is ticking and I have to finish this stupid exam. I don’t like Econ. I never did, who needs it?
I was walking down the street and fell down on the pavement when I had realized that I had broken my ankle. Oh dear I thought. What the fuck happened. I just sat there screaming for somebody, anybody, to come and help me but I was alone.
damnit. instant wirter’s block. i guess my mind is a little broken. fitting, because it’s the one thing that i wanted to get fired up again, working, back to fixed whole and engaged again. it’s been so long i’m not even sure how to begin… baby steps, baby steps
we are all a little broken inside, consider, the fragile broken heart. Makes you think, does one really care ? Or, are we all just silent witnesses to murder, on a daily basis ? Is it really murder, to break a heart, or is it just a signal that its time to let go of something we had, something so good and pure. Broken hearts, murder ? I think so. Kill a heart.
Hearts, promises, tv’s, computers, cars. I used to say “I am bent, but not broke”. That was before I became ill. Now I am broke but my spirit is not broken. Makes it hard though when other things get broken, no money to get them fixed, ya know? I fell in love when I was 23, he broke my heart, and disappeared. I found him again, 40 years later, this time he repaired my broken heart, only to leave me for a new existence on another plane. He is an angel now, I guess, for all his faults and shortcomings. He finally told me that he loved me. I love him still, and when he died, my heart broke again but not for the same reasons I had when I was 23. So here I am, talking to strangers about being broken. Nope, I am sad at the loss of him, but his love did make me whole again, and I know it won’t take another 40 years till we are together once again.
spoiled. Heart. love. missing. glasses. breaking glass, smashed. to pieces. gone with the wind. spirit. body. heart and soul. broken man. poor, homeless. lost ans alone.
broken that sux. means like u cant use it anymore. oh well if something broke for me, id just move on and find something else. but im not like all people. wtv im gonna go play boxhead…………..
It was a summer night. I can still feel your touch on my skin. The way you body looked in the soft summer glow. The way your breath broke the innocent mold of my body. I am forever broken by your touch. Your soft embrace, your sweet lips.
down beaten old hag destruction and death all around why did you create this world. What use is it to anyone. The repair shop is closed you can’t return this world. We are stuck with it.
broken is when you break something of course and its also a destoryed object and hurt feeling inside so have you ever had your heart broken well dats one way to feel broken on the inside sereiously im not ckiddiong
i’m a broken glass doll and you don’t heal wounds like these. it’s alright to critique my face, lungs, and words. this is a downpour of words you shouldn’t know. don’t hate yourself. i’m perfectly fine with being alone.
this is what you’ve done and not to myself
I feel whole and strawberry flavored.
you could mend it but this time you’ll go both ways:
Right and Wrong.
It feels good to be broken…sometimes.
i’ve been called broken before; it’s an old thing to say, from when my age began with a one as its first number, but it’s still true, as the numbers grow and the cracks continue to show.
people are broken. their dreams broken lifes are broken .. too bad .. but they can mend it but it all goes well finally.. sometime back i thought i was broken but that was just bulshit.. i just didnt have courage to mend myself. so i just want to tell everyone to be couraogues .
AM i broken? laying shattered into a million little pieces on the floor next to the trash can. Shards of endless suffering and paradoxical eternity slicing at the contentment, cutting through the
Brokenness of the soul is not the worst tragedy to efall mankind. Nietzsche was a broken man, but broken is the most beutiful state humanity created. And they did create it. Tragedy was not a natural state, it was born of ourselevs, and our broken society. We did not create brokenness, brokenness made us. And broke us.
With a cling and a clang, the exquisite wine glass which my late grandfather had left for me shattered into a billion unrecoverable fragments. Each fragment, glistening under the glaring sunlight. Each fragment, seemed as if it were sliting across my heart. My heart felt as if it had, like the broken wine glass, broke into a million fragments…
i think it is broken, u know it is. So why don’t you just go ahead and kill yourself now or live the rest of your live with no sex. The sex was too rough and now i am broken. How dare u try and put that in my ass.
Broken man sits at gas station. His car is also broken. So are his feet. So is his watch. And his dog. And his mustache. Kaputt.
i feel a tad broken i guess. i dont feel very happy anymore but i dont feel sad. when people tell me stories about bad things i dont feel sad or worried for them i just think about what expression im supposed to have and i make it. i dont have many broken items . my mouse broke the other day ;_;
alone, cold and frightened. My heart is always these things. Shattered, splintered into a million shards of sharp glass, scattered across the unforgiving ground. broken and hurt is what I am
I am broken. Shattered. It’s not that I can’t love again; it’s that I won’t. I can’t be broken like this again. Someone fix me, please! Only seams will hold me; I will never be the same.
I’m broken, as i realised it was me that she trusted to to break her, virginity. how, why? what made me the one?, my persasion?
I’ve fallen and I really can’t get up
Where’ve you gone, and where’s my cup
In many pieces, of that I’m sure
And so little time, where’s the cure?
I haven’t been this broken since they tossed me from a speeding car. And all you did was say one word: goodbye. it’s different – being broken on the inside. Worse, I think. Can it be fixed?
it sat there. unmoving. it sat there and stared at me, empty. like, the life and function had left it. and i sighed, as a pang of regret crossed through my mind. and looked at the catalogue for a new one.
hearts batter themselves against the window pane, looking for an escape from the locked in angony of rejection denial death despair damage damaged damaging lies that sufficate them.
Sometimes I feel like my life is broken. Like it keeps going around in circles and there’s nothing I can do to fix it. The brokenness makes me feel powerless. The truth is that I do have the power. Nobody else does, just me. I want to fix the brokenness.
I have broken many a thing
and it seems i’m back to swing
glasses round
and pizza slices
on the table
icecream spoons still droopy wet
with brownie chocolate
now on my bed
it seems its just another fase
that hopefully will only last
a couple of days…
“SON OF A-“
“Language!” An angry voice shouted from behind me.
“Well, I think my toe is broken!” I exclaimed limping over to my mother who knitting in the rocking chair in the corner.
“There’s nothing that can be done about a broken toe. Put some ice on it.”
I rolled my eyes and mumbled at her as I made my way int to the kitchen very slowly.
Somethings are just meant to be this way. Your destiny can”t be perfect. It is they only way some people live.
Something my family will never be. We have been tested several times, and I love what Nancy said last night: “Just circle the wagons” and off we go. Tight knit and protective, that’s us. I love what we have.
she stirred a cloud of dirt in the road and then watched it disappear, back to the same nothing it had been. dust and dirt and shit and rocks and gravel. she sighed and her breath was covered with a film of dust and she had never realized before how old the earth was.
my heart is broken going home will fix it but i dont know how to do tht i was hurt so bad now i wabt something more than i have i need more than i have