Something about that word makes me think of a snowy morning. Well the direct allusion is because of the word snow” flakes” or cereal ” flakes” This gives me this fun and crunchy feeling.
Snowflakes. Swirling, diving dancing. With the wonder of snow also comes the harsh winter, the cold days and the even colder nights. THe long sunless days and the unattractive cloths. But does the wonder o of the first snowfall make all better? Yes, yes it does.
Flakes fall from the sky. They are white. Oh, I did want a white Christmas. It’s been long, sombre years. All I wanted was a white, happy Christmas.
It smells so odd. The smell is suffocating. How dreadful are these flakes.
flakes of gold, fall like snow. snow is cold, and so are you. you are graceful, buy you aren’t gold. you’re just fake, you’re a flake. A flake that could just be blown away, and travel the sky at night. A flake that will continue blowing with the wind and never come back to me.
snowflakes fall on my eye lashes. how amazing are they. each one is unique just like a human. but how does one know each one is different if they melt so quickly.
snow flakes
pretty
mesmerising shapes and floating movements
have only ever seen the snow once, but i remember the touch and feel of it
i was only 8
I loved that time away with my family, even though one of my sisters were still at home
They fell softly to the ground. Exquisite flakes of white snow, each one different to the next. She felt them softly brush her reddened cheek, soft like a lover’s kiss. She was cold but was entranced by this contact.
she did not mind the flakes of ash and spritzes of drizzle as she dressed into her winter garb.It felt surprizingly warm against her body-a supposed fashion statement for when she bet with people on a cold winter’s day.as powerful girl,she didn’t need it,but the people she met on those below freezing days felt better about seeing her in it than seeing her in her thin tiny onesy
snow swirling converted garage window seat sliding glass door jack frost snow covered tree in the backyard blizzard snowplow duchess in the middle of the snow abandoned street staying at grandma’s house. watching the birds fight over the bird feeder. staying warm.
flakes are like corn flakes you eat them for breakfast, lunch or dinner. also they come in shapes of snow. aka snow flakes. they white and often come during the winter. there are also other types of flakes like dandruff. these are the only bad type of flakes that i know of. overall flakes are good.
Four flakes falling from the sky one is pure and white while the others are melting away in mid air. Of course I picked the three that are melting before I find the pure white one. I picked the three wrong ones before the right. I picked the boys before the man. I picked them before you.
Flakes. I am a flake. Oh no, you mean snow flakes or oregeno flakes or people who have dandruff flakes on their collars. Fake flakes and real flakes. This is kind of a cool thing to do since I haven’t flirted with flakes for a fortnight. Do cereal flakes qualify too? With milk and banana? Frosted?
Snow flakes, or flakes that owe me money? “Nice” me wants to talk about the snow flakes falling, but “mean” me wants to talk about flakes that owe me money! Flakes. Good or bad.
flakes. snowflakes. Cascading gently, blanketing the entire landscape in a sheer white nothingness, erasing nature and human touch. A canvas with which all could be born anew.
mouth hanging open, as wide as the screen door, as stillness settles over the landscape. what dream were we pulled from, why now do our hands shake? the slow-motion descent of snow flakes. the thought of reality being slowly unraveled beneath us.
and then we remember the reason we chose to (overdose to) forget. that’s not snow at all, but ash. in fact, it’s july. but you wouldn’t know from the sky.
I watched the snow flakes fall as i waited, sitting in my front window worried that i was never going to find someone better, that this was it, that all i was going to be given in life was the people in my life now. I was surrounded by flakes of two kinds, the pure white shiny slick ones, and the dead beat, no show, heartless ones.
Snow falls on the ground. Going around in circles the wind whisks everything away as the flakes of snow go every where and somehow end in his short black hair his eyes blink and he laughs at me as I try to catch the flakes on my tongue I swear he loves me but all I know is that I love him. In a moment with the flakes life seems perfect. Life seems right in the moments I spend with him and the flakes spinning around everything stops and he is the only thing in my world that seems to move
Corn flakes always look like they’re dusted with snow to me. Just like the roof of the chapel looked tonight, although it’s much too early for snow. The sky looks cold enough but I wasn’t wearing a coat. Why then did the chapel silver and glow so? Perhaps the stadium lights…
Corn flakes have this dust on them that always reminds me of snow. Like the way the roof of the chapel looked tonight even though it hasn’t snowed yet. Winter is coming and the sky looked cold enough but I wasn’t wearing a jacket, and i just couldnt figure out why the roof looked so silver, glowed so! Perhaps the stadium lights…
Snow brings flakes of ice/ water to the ground. Dandruff is really nasty with all the little flakes that come off and ew! I hate to say anything to someone that has some in their hair or on there clothes cause I don’t want them to be all “Oh no! You saw?!” and have them embarrassed.
Snow flakes are so beautiful! They are wonderful things. So nice and white. So pretty. Snow flakes are amazing and come together to make snow. Just like people come together to make a community. Isn’t it amazing? I find it wonderful. Snow flakes are just little people. Just little people.
i eat them every morning so i’m not hungry, because if I’m hungry, i start getting nervous. nervousity is never good, so why not eat flakes in the morning? okay, additional to the flakes i drink coffee. gosh, i adore coffee! not that i’m addicted to it but it just makes my day and helps me getting thourgh it more easily.
when it snows, all i can think about is disappointing my family. maybe it’s because the little flurries remind me of the holidays. maybe it’s because i don’t have children to watch as they marvel at the beautiful precipitation. whatever it is, it breaks my heart.
Those weird people on the outskirts of society they march
To the beat of a different drum and are considered
Strange
Most people shrink away from these folks as if their
Eccentricity is contagious
The dust covers the room like a blanket of moss, brown and soft and secretive. it is filled with flakes of old things, of old people, of the memories and the words and the lives that were lived there, before it all started going wrong.
As the snow fell I went out to my yard and laid down. I looked up into the sky so I could watch all the flakes as they fell and drifted gently down from the heavens.
She tries to be the best friend. And she is, really. But I just get so tired of the incessant talking. It’s me, I know it’s me. I flake and pull away. She’s the best friend, I’m just there. And I feel guilty, but what could I possibly do about it? I try to care more, I try to act better… but she’s just so… boring. So terribly, unforgivably boring. And it seems no one notices but me.
There are flakes and there are flakes. I despise snowflakes, though I’ve been told they’re the most interesting and complex thing in the universe. When I was a kid, we had to cut out snowflakes every year. Those rounded pointed scissors pissed me off. I wanted the pointed ones–the sharp ones. Then there are the other flakes. I’ve known nothing but flakes. They gravitate toward me and make me crazy. But obviously some of these flakes have enhanced my life, made me laugh, made me think and given me lots of joy and love. Then there are the flakes that I’ve rid my life of. I wonder how many it has been by now? Many many many. But I’m good at ridding myself of flakes. They’re good for awhile…until they become flakey. Then I let them melt–melt out of my life–melt forever. What a bizarre writing exercise this is. Flakes. I’ll have to remember this.
The little snowflakes tumble down everywhere, calling me. The little white fluffs are everywhere, bringing out the cold, but also the gorgeousness. They sentence me to a lifetime of cold beauty, both metaphorical and physical, but I don’t care.
The little snowflakes tumble down everywhere, calling me. The little white fluffs are everywhere, bringing out the cold, but also the gorgeousness. They sentence me to a lifetime of cold beauty, both metaphorical and physical, but I don’t care.
snow flakes, cold, white, corn flakes sweet, dessert, brown, sugar, happy, rush, dance, party, hangover, more party, work sleep,
Flakes falling on my eyes
” I cant see mom!”
“Here dear”
She wipes them off my face
“Mom its beautiful! What is this?”
Something about that word makes me think of a snowy morning. Well the direct allusion is because of the word snow” flakes” or cereal ” flakes” This gives me this fun and crunchy feeling.
Snowflakes falling,
Gently drifting,
To rest upon the ground.
Walking with you,
Not a care in the world,
I wish this was forever.
Snowflakes. Swirling, diving dancing. With the wonder of snow also comes the harsh winter, the cold days and the even colder nights. THe long sunless days and the unattractive cloths. But does the wonder o of the first snowfall make all better? Yes, yes it does.
Flakes fall from the sky. They are white. Oh, I did want a white Christmas. It’s been long, sombre years. All I wanted was a white, happy Christmas.
It smells so odd. The smell is suffocating. How dreadful are these flakes.
flakes of gold, fall like snow. snow is cold, and so are you. you are graceful, buy you aren’t gold. you’re just fake, you’re a flake. A flake that could just be blown away, and travel the sky at night. A flake that will continue blowing with the wind and never come back to me.
snowflakes fall on my eye lashes. how amazing are they. each one is unique just like a human. but how does one know each one is different if they melt so quickly.
snow flakes
pretty
mesmerising shapes and floating movements
have only ever seen the snow once, but i remember the touch and feel of it
i was only 8
I loved that time away with my family, even though one of my sisters were still at home
They fell softly to the ground. Exquisite flakes of white snow, each one different to the next. She felt them softly brush her reddened cheek, soft like a lover’s kiss. She was cold but was entranced by this contact.
flakes are those tiny ice crystals that fall from the sky like frozen tears and land on the ground, making the world all sparkly and beautiful.
she did not mind the flakes of ash and spritzes of drizzle as she dressed into her winter garb.It felt surprizingly warm against her body-a supposed fashion statement for when she bet with people on a cold winter’s day.as powerful girl,she didn’t need it,but the people she met on those below freezing days felt better about seeing her in it than seeing her in her thin tiny onesy
whispering snowflakes are
falling
falling
falling
obscuring the world from view
what lies hidden beneath the snow?
Small Little White Things That Are Found On Your Black Or Dark Clothing
OR Little ShapeOf Snow Falling Ever So Peacfully
snow swirling converted garage window seat sliding glass door jack frost snow covered tree in the backyard blizzard snowplow duchess in the middle of the snow abandoned street staying at grandma’s house. watching the birds fight over the bird feeder. staying warm.
flakes are like corn flakes you eat them for breakfast, lunch or dinner. also they come in shapes of snow. aka snow flakes. they white and often come during the winter. there are also other types of flakes like dandruff. these are the only bad type of flakes that i know of. overall flakes are good.
Four flakes falling from the sky one is pure and white while the others are melting away in mid air. Of course I picked the three that are melting before I find the pure white one. I picked the three wrong ones before the right. I picked the boys before the man. I picked them before you.
Flakes. I am a flake. Oh no, you mean snow flakes or oregeno flakes or people who have dandruff flakes on their collars. Fake flakes and real flakes. This is kind of a cool thing to do since I haven’t flirted with flakes for a fortnight. Do cereal flakes qualify too? With milk and banana? Frosted?
Snow flakes, or flakes that owe me money? “Nice” me wants to talk about the snow flakes falling, but “mean” me wants to talk about flakes that owe me money! Flakes. Good or bad.
flakes. snowflakes. Cascading gently, blanketing the entire landscape in a sheer white nothingness, erasing nature and human touch. A canvas with which all could be born anew.
mouth hanging open, as wide as the screen door, as stillness settles over the landscape. what dream were we pulled from, why now do our hands shake? the slow-motion descent of snow flakes. the thought of reality being slowly unraveled beneath us.
and then we remember the reason we chose to (overdose to) forget. that’s not snow at all, but ash. in fact, it’s july. but you wouldn’t know from the sky.
your eyes broke down like a flakes in the wind. I saw you became smaller and smaller. And then you lost.
I watched the snow flakes fall as i waited, sitting in my front window worried that i was never going to find someone better, that this was it, that all i was going to be given in life was the people in my life now. I was surrounded by flakes of two kinds, the pure white shiny slick ones, and the dead beat, no show, heartless ones.
Snow falls on the ground. Going around in circles the wind whisks everything away as the flakes of snow go every where and somehow end in his short black hair his eyes blink and he laughs at me as I try to catch the flakes on my tongue I swear he loves me but all I know is that I love him. In a moment with the flakes life seems perfect. Life seems right in the moments I spend with him and the flakes spinning around everything stops and he is the only thing in my world that seems to move
Corn flakes always look like they’re dusted with snow to me. Just like the roof of the chapel looked tonight, although it’s much too early for snow. The sky looks cold enough but I wasn’t wearing a coat. Why then did the chapel silver and glow so? Perhaps the stadium lights…
Corn flakes have this dust on them that always reminds me of snow. Like the way the roof of the chapel looked tonight even though it hasn’t snowed yet. Winter is coming and the sky looked cold enough but I wasn’t wearing a jacket, and i just couldnt figure out why the roof looked so silver, glowed so! Perhaps the stadium lights…
Flakes are unnecessary. Corn flake. Dandruff flakes. People are flaky. Flaky people are a waste of my time. It’s 5:16 right now.
Snow brings flakes of ice/ water to the ground. Dandruff is really nasty with all the little flakes that come off and ew! I hate to say anything to someone that has some in their hair or on there clothes cause I don’t want them to be all “Oh no! You saw?!” and have them embarrassed.
Snow flakes are so beautiful! They are wonderful things. So nice and white. So pretty. Snow flakes are amazing and come together to make snow. Just like people come together to make a community. Isn’t it amazing? I find it wonderful. Snow flakes are just little people. Just little people.
Falling snow. My dad’s head. Star-flecked skies. Glowing blue eyes. Alone. Purple dinosaur.
i eat them every morning so i’m not hungry, because if I’m hungry, i start getting nervous. nervousity is never good, so why not eat flakes in the morning? okay, additional to the flakes i drink coffee. gosh, i adore coffee! not that i’m addicted to it but it just makes my day and helps me getting thourgh it more easily.
when it snows, all i can think about is disappointing my family. maybe it’s because the little flurries remind me of the holidays. maybe it’s because i don’t have children to watch as they marvel at the beautiful precipitation. whatever it is, it breaks my heart.
Those weird people on the outskirts of society they march
To the beat of a different drum and are considered
Strange
Most people shrink away from these folks as if their
Eccentricity is contagious
The dust covers the room like a blanket of moss, brown and soft and secretive. it is filled with flakes of old things, of old people, of the memories and the words and the lives that were lived there, before it all started going wrong.
flakes fall like forgotten memories all over. shards of dream. old photographs. all that’s left.
it’s too late.
As the snow fell I went out to my yard and laid down. I looked up into the sky so I could watch all the flakes as they fell and drifted gently down from the heavens.
She tries to be the best friend. And she is, really. But I just get so tired of the incessant talking. It’s me, I know it’s me. I flake and pull away. She’s the best friend, I’m just there. And I feel guilty, but what could I possibly do about it? I try to care more, I try to act better… but she’s just so… boring. So terribly, unforgivably boring. And it seems no one notices but me.
There are flakes and there are flakes. I despise snowflakes, though I’ve been told they’re the most interesting and complex thing in the universe. When I was a kid, we had to cut out snowflakes every year. Those rounded pointed scissors pissed me off. I wanted the pointed ones–the sharp ones. Then there are the other flakes. I’ve known nothing but flakes. They gravitate toward me and make me crazy. But obviously some of these flakes have enhanced my life, made me laugh, made me think and given me lots of joy and love. Then there are the flakes that I’ve rid my life of. I wonder how many it has been by now? Many many many. But I’m good at ridding myself of flakes. They’re good for awhile…until they become flakey. Then I let them melt–melt out of my life–melt forever. What a bizarre writing exercise this is. Flakes. I’ll have to remember this.
The little snowflakes tumble down everywhere, calling me. The little white fluffs are everywhere, bringing out the cold, but also the gorgeousness. They sentence me to a lifetime of cold beauty, both metaphorical and physical, but I don’t care.
There are much worse prices to pay.
The little snowflakes tumble down everywhere, calling me. The little white fluffs are everywhere, bringing out the cold, but also the gorgeousness. They sentence me to a lifetime of cold beauty, both metaphorical and physical, but I don’t care.
There are much worse prices to pay.