She saw his humanity when she saw the yellow stains on his collar. He was tired. Even if he was cruel to the core, he was only another animal in a dog-eat-dog world. He was not at fault for his evil
Detectives, police work to collar the suspect..to nab..to grab..The excellent work, the clues lead to a collar. Then the smaller collar on the wrists, then in a cage, like a dog. Dog collar.
White Collar, the series. Never ever seen it, never ever cared. What I care about now is getting the chance to kiss you before you leave to Belgium for no apparent reason even though you’re acting so indifferent right now. I now you care too. Show me. Let’s do this.
I’ve never liked shirt collars. I get this irrational sensation that whenever I wear a collar, it’s climbing up my neck and closing itself around my throat and trying to choke me. And I really do gag. It’s quite unexplainable. I mean, it’s not like I have a fear of collars. I just have a fear of choking. Thus, I never wear turtlenecks.
Fashion. So much of the current fashion trends is based on collars. But they are controlling, suffocating, uncomfortable. I do not care if they are cute.
She grabbed him by the collar and pushed him against the wall. His eyes were round with surprise as he stared into her liquid silver irises.
“What…what are you doing?” He questioned breathlessly.
“You’re not the only one who can be forceful.” She said before kissing him. He couldn’t help but chuckle. The sudden turn of events was quite thrilling.
Nothing is more elegant on a coat then a high collar. the way it sits under the chin a and grazes the jaw. It stops the chilly wind, but it also leaves this air of mystery and hidden motives.
The color of a man’s shirt. Blue, white. Defines him. Who are you, they ask. When really they already know Your brow is gleaming with sweat. A long day. Of labor? Of paperwork? Who is one collared man to judge another.
its like he took me from the collar
or grabbed me from behind
relentlessly shook me
not a chance for benignity
trembling,
I turned away. and sat on top of Mount Everest.
His collar itched as he rode the elevator to the top. Why had he decided to jump in a suit and tie, he wondered to himself. The blood would smirk any clothing he chose. Why had he not saved the fancy wear for the funeral? Such poor future planning on his part, but he really wasn’t used to planning for the future anymore.
He tugged on his collar nervously as the train slowed then came to a stop. Time to step off, on the platform a woman in a hoodie greated him, her face hidden. That’s how they did it in the new days, cloaks were much to conspicuos.
Dear Pig Wig, just wanted you to know that I hate the new shirts. Make my neck feel stuffy. But I do enjoy the aprons, especially because they cover the chub when I have to tuck my shirt in.
But other than that, I don’t know how I feel about you these days. Both the likes and dislikes come and go.
I don’t know what to right i guess i will just do random stuff… haha well i really don’t know what to do with r.. I don’t really think I like him. Plus I like someone else wayyy more(: so yea thought i should say that.
submerged in the ocean
salt water dripping from my ears
thoughts forming like pools
like water caught between rocks
waves in my hair and fingertips
fish scales etched into my skin
the light weight of a sailboat
rocking slightly in my collarbone
cradling me to sleep with its movement
these oceans were built for the both of us
these oceans were built for you and me
White collar, high class man. Perfectly coiffed blonde hair, blue eyes, impressive (and even drool-worthy) build. It’s impossible to notice the speck of blood on his Hugo Boss brown patent leather shoes. It’s impossible to notice the strand of blonde hair hanging out the side of his vintage Armani briefcase. And it’s almost impossible to notice his white, razor sharp smile.
Almost.
the white collar criminal hit the little girl’s hand.His daughter look at her father shame engraved on her face.
the father silently sworn to himself never to raise another criminal.
a small hair rests on the back of my collar. it tickles my neck, slowly keeping me awake at night, distracting me through the day. It is like a worry, slowly driving you up the wall.
people put collars on dogs. they also put collars on misbehaving children. Everyone has an imaginary collar, holding us back from doing something that we want to do. let go of the collar. set your self free. let go
She wore it attached to a collar on her neck. It was a locket. A gold locket with filigree flowers and vines. It was beautiful. And it was attached by a split ring to a pink dog collar. She wore it around her neck and the pink from the collar matched the pink on the tips of her liberty spikes. Her blue eyes sparkled as she grinned at me and my heart began to pound.
His collar was wrinkled as his face. In his hand he held a cigarette with ashes curled to the end. He wasn’t smoking, as much as he was plotting. He’d come to this land a free man and he’d die in this land a free man.
Sometimes it feels like I’m carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. Sometimes I just need to get away from everything and learn how to live. Live for me and live for the moment. I want to be free.
“This is the sedative” the doctor said to me as she inserted a liquid to my iv. She told me to turn to my side, and I did. My head started ringing, my eyelids heavy. Gone, I was completely gone. It felt like a collar choking from the inside, “You’re okay, don’t worry” I heard multiple voices say.
‘I’m dead,’ I thought, ‘I’m dying.’
Collars belong on dogs and cats, or just any domestic animal. Collars are also worn by people who believe they are stylish and trendy, and are often shown on humans in manga/anime. Collars can have bells on them, studs, etc. My sister wears a collar with studs.
It’s like the opposite of lipstick on the collar. He smells like Ryan’s cologne and he carries it with him all day, like a ghost, and oh yeah, Sean sees the irony in that statement. It’s a ghost of Ryan, but not in the same way he’s used to.
you pull and choke me with the bloody collar that you have around my neck. you yell and kick at me when i cant move. this collar strains my neck and i cant stand the pain please take it off. years pass by and the collar only sinks into my sink more and more each day. why cant you people see how much pain im in cant you see the suffuring im going threw. but then again i walk the streets with a think coat and my rundown boots trying to keep me warm. then he poped out of no were and took the collar off in one slick move and i was free from the pain only sting of the frsh blood tickling down my neck and the tissue meeting the pinching cold air. and from that point on i was free i never saw him again but if i ever do thank you is all i can say for tears will sting my eyes.
The collar is the awful epitome of culture. It chokes and keeps the tie in place. It holds no functional purpose at all. I hate the collar.
She saw his humanity when she saw the yellow stains on his collar. He was tired. Even if he was cruel to the core, he was only another animal in a dog-eat-dog world. He was not at fault for his evil
Detectives, police work to collar the suspect..to nab..to grab..The excellent work, the clues lead to a collar. Then the smaller collar on the wrists, then in a cage, like a dog. Dog collar.
White Collar, the series. Never ever seen it, never ever cared. What I care about now is getting the chance to kiss you before you leave to Belgium for no apparent reason even though you’re acting so indifferent right now. I now you care too. Show me. Let’s do this.
Her collar, collar
For a dollar, you could buy it, collar
Her hair flown down to her collar
Her collar speckled with blood
Blood that hurt her hands
As she cried that night alone and again
She just wanted love
Above her collar
But no love came
So she cried, left her dollar
Beside her.
I’ve never liked shirt collars. I get this irrational sensation that whenever I wear a collar, it’s climbing up my neck and closing itself around my throat and trying to choke me. And I really do gag. It’s quite unexplainable. I mean, it’s not like I have a fear of collars. I just have a fear of choking. Thus, I never wear turtlenecks.
itch
tight
scratchy
stiff
upright
victorian
puritan
wide
pointed
popped
Fashion. So much of the current fashion trends is based on collars. But they are controlling, suffocating, uncomfortable. I do not care if they are cute.
She grabbed him by the collar and pushed him against the wall. His eyes were round with surprise as he stared into her liquid silver irises.
“What…what are you doing?” He questioned breathlessly.
“You’re not the only one who can be forceful.” She said before kissing him. He couldn’t help but chuckle. The sudden turn of events was quite thrilling.
confined.
strangled.
held.
controlled.
plaything.
Nothing is more elegant on a coat then a high collar. the way it sits under the chin a and grazes the jaw. It stops the chilly wind, but it also leaves this air of mystery and hidden motives.
The color of a man’s shirt. Blue, white. Defines him. Who are you, they ask. When really they already know Your brow is gleaming with sweat. A long day. Of labor? Of paperwork? Who is one collared man to judge another.
its like he took me from the collar
or grabbed me from behind
relentlessly shook me
not a chance for benignity
trembling,
I turned away. and sat on top of Mount Everest.
Françis V. Collard
Darmon Diesel
“collar” in my language means the same as “necklace”, i quite like using them. they are sometimes uncomfortable!
His collar itched as he rode the elevator to the top. Why had he decided to jump in a suit and tie, he wondered to himself. The blood would smirk any clothing he chose. Why had he not saved the fancy wear for the funeral? Such poor future planning on his part, but he really wasn’t used to planning for the future anymore.
He tugged on his collar nervously as the train slowed then came to a stop. Time to step off, on the platform a woman in a hoodie greated him, her face hidden. That’s how they did it in the new days, cloaks were much to conspicuos.
Dear Pig Wig, just wanted you to know that I hate the new shirts. Make my neck feel stuffy. But I do enjoy the aprons, especially because they cover the chub when I have to tuck my shirt in.
But other than that, I don’t know how I feel about you these days. Both the likes and dislikes come and go.
I don’t know what to right i guess i will just do random stuff… haha well i really don’t know what to do with r.. I don’t really think I like him. Plus I like someone else wayyy more(: so yea thought i should say that.
You are the collar around my neck. The last piece that ties me to anyone. A sense of belonging. You are a collar and you are made of gold.
submerged in the ocean
salt water dripping from my ears
thoughts forming like pools
like water caught between rocks
waves in my hair and fingertips
fish scales etched into my skin
the light weight of a sailboat
rocking slightly in my collarbone
cradling me to sleep with its movement
these oceans were built for the both of us
these oceans were built for you and me
White collar, high class man. Perfectly coiffed blonde hair, blue eyes, impressive (and even drool-worthy) build. It’s impossible to notice the speck of blood on his Hugo Boss brown patent leather shoes. It’s impossible to notice the strand of blonde hair hanging out the side of his vintage Armani briefcase. And it’s almost impossible to notice his white, razor sharp smile.
Almost.
the white collar criminal hit the little girl’s hand.His daughter look at her father shame engraved on her face.
the father silently sworn to himself never to raise another criminal.
a small hair rests on the back of my collar. it tickles my neck, slowly keeping me awake at night, distracting me through the day. It is like a worry, slowly driving you up the wall.
the white collar criminal hit the little girl, who was his daughter, for steling candy.
he would not raise another crook.
people put collars on dogs. they also put collars on misbehaving children. Everyone has an imaginary collar, holding us back from doing something that we want to do. let go of the collar. set your self free. let go
She wore it attached to a collar on her neck. It was a locket. A gold locket with filigree flowers and vines. It was beautiful. And it was attached by a split ring to a pink dog collar. She wore it around her neck and the pink from the collar matched the pink on the tips of her liberty spikes. Her blue eyes sparkled as she grinned at me and my heart began to pound.
On his collar lay a dollar – oh, what squalor for a scholar.
His collar was wrinkled as his face. In his hand he held a cigarette with ashes curled to the end. He wasn’t smoking, as much as he was plotting. He’d come to this land a free man and he’d die in this land a free man.
As my wrist grazed past your collar to caress your silk woven face, I knew this was perfect, but too soon forgot.
work
Sometimes it feels like I’m carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. Sometimes I just need to get away from everything and learn how to live. Live for me and live for the moment. I want to be free.
“This is the sedative” the doctor said to me as she inserted a liquid to my iv. She told me to turn to my side, and I did. My head started ringing, my eyelids heavy. Gone, I was completely gone. It felt like a collar choking from the inside, “You’re okay, don’t worry” I heard multiple voices say.
‘I’m dead,’ I thought, ‘I’m dying.’
Collars belong on dogs and cats, or just any domestic animal. Collars are also worn by people who believe they are stylish and trendy, and are often shown on humans in manga/anime. Collars can have bells on them, studs, etc. My sister wears a collar with studs.
shirt
coat
sweatshirt
dog
necklace
tshirt
monkey
dog tag holder
helpfull
We learned the other day that tying a bow-tie is next to impossible if you’re not wearing a collared shirt. He explained it. He’s very smart.
It’s like the opposite of lipstick on the collar. He smells like Ryan’s cologne and he carries it with him all day, like a ghost, and oh yeah, Sean sees the irony in that statement. It’s a ghost of Ryan, but not in the same way he’s used to.
“You’re doing that thing again.”
The dark haired man looked up. “What?”
The shorter man groaned. “You with your cheek bones and your collar turned up, trying to look all mysterious.”
The taller man sniffed. “What? I do not!”
The blonde haired man smiled as he opened his car door. “Oh, yes you do.”
The other man frowned, but slightly adjusted his collar as he opened his own door.
“Do not…”
you pull and choke me with the bloody collar that you have around my neck. you yell and kick at me when i cant move. this collar strains my neck and i cant stand the pain please take it off. years pass by and the collar only sinks into my sink more and more each day. why cant you people see how much pain im in cant you see the suffuring im going threw. but then again i walk the streets with a think coat and my rundown boots trying to keep me warm. then he poped out of no were and took the collar off in one slick move and i was free from the pain only sting of the frsh blood tickling down my neck and the tissue meeting the pinching cold air. and from that point on i was free i never saw him again but if i ever do thank you is all i can say for tears will sting my eyes.
our father who art in heaven, the skies are blue the paintings white, how wonderful in my site. Together there are but one so wonderful wonderful you.