My heart was beating quickly. I looked down at my shoes and laughed. Hearts. I felt a little ironic. I walked forward, to what would be, the best day of my life. The best Valentine’s Day dance in the history of this high school.
Hearts were drawn on her face.
The marker color was magenta.
Yet, there was no smile upon her face.
She only looked at the people passing by
no emotions whatsoever.
You would see her pass
and the one thing you would notice instantly
are the two different colored eyes
that she has.
hearts are meant to be broken and mended a thousand times over. sometimes the two actions are done by the same person. This results in two hearts put together with all of their scars and bruises. the hurt fades but the memory of it makes the relationship stronger.
Separate. They are all surrounded by castle walls, in miniature. I construct siege towers. This shouldn’t be insurmountable. Tiny fireballs launched into the thrumming pits.
ah why is there only hearts, don’t break my heart, my achy break-y hear i don’t know the rest. i hate country music my hearts a stereo it beats for you so listen close oop times up
She knew in her heart of hearts that this couldn’t go on. She knew that there was a reason why demons were portrayed in the light they were– it didn’t matter that it was only half his heritage, there was a reason. And she saw it daily, in the glares he gave people, the snarls, the threats. She’d seen him walking home covered in blood more than once, but some part of her, that larger part of her, didn’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t stop it, because, to end it would be to end not only their love, but to her power, too.
The heart of the bells. They rang so loud they pressed down on the the soul of any who listened. She cried out in fear, unknowing of where the sound came from. But it came from the heart… the heart of the bells. The sound rang through the room, rebounding and growing. Each return it gained strength… until the beauty of the sound pierced her heart.
Hearts. Love. All that jazz. Actually, one of the first things I thought of was Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri. And then I belted it out here in my dorm. NBD. I’m in a good mood. My HEART is happy. :) I’m just happy right now. And I was to just run around and be happy!
Hearts. Red, pink, white and blue. Sometimes I think there’s a bit of black missing. And then I realize that I’m alive and therefore I am the living example of it.
Hearts are beautiful, fragile things. In ways that I don’t think I could ever understand, even if I were to live to be a hundred years old. It’s like it’s something that doesn’t even compute properly, but yet, it’s there and it exists.
It’s strongest on its own and stronger with another. But to have the courage to share such a thing with another human being–that is a strength like no other.
How do I know our hearts were meant to be? Because I can be frustrated and pissed at him one minute and the next minute laugh because he sent me some inside joke. And from there it all just melts back into a big cheesy grin for no reason. that’s how I know.
How often do we feel our hearts? Well, if you listen closely, they’re always there. Unfortunately, like many other things, we only notice them once something’s gone horribly wrong.
Hearts are easily broken. But they learn–they are strong. A person is judged by the strength of their character–the ability for them to stretch their heart and accept others. A heart may be fragile, but it also controls the entire body. It fills us with life biologically, but we cannot live without love.
I inevitably will hate the word you give me because it’s not what I wanted to write about. And I always think, is there an answer? A cleverest choice? Something I was too dumb to find, easily missed? Do you believe in me? Am I asking too many questions? Do you believe I can do it? Can I make anything of myself? Is it too early or too late?
Hearts intertwined
So tightly they begin to bleed
The love these two share
Is slowly killing them
And they have no idea.
They’ll die before they see
That what they had was
Just as fake and meaningless
As their worthless lives.
Our hearts are hard. All of them like lions-head knockers on big wooden doors. Locked, hidden away. I wish I was brave enough, brave like her. Open your cat eyes and look at the world, see what it looks like when you’re not hiding behind that bloody heart smile.
That which dots the “i”s in a little girl’s love note; that which beats faster on the treadmill, feet pounding the rough rotating rubber; that which catches in the throat as a certain kind of eye contact is made, sending more than words between the two themselves…
Beating
faster and faster.
Thumping and pounding
vibrating in my ear.
Your lips draw near.
I feel your breath,
humid and steady
against my nervous skin.
Burning nose
traces chills
along my collarbone.
Awakening my nerves
like never before.
Soft lips nibble
moving up my laddered neck.
Following the outline
of my jaw bone,
stealthily searching for a kiss.
Beating. Breathing. Living. All those things need a heart. Hearts are the center of our lives. Even the ancients knew how important hearts are. We should too. Hearts help us live. They keep us strong.
Beating. Two of them together. Red. Light headed, throbbing. Fuzzy feelings and warm thoughts. Wrapped in glass and diamond, brass and gold. Tolling eternally, the sound of our souls.
Our hearts are broken, but we will never give in! Or so we said. But with our hearts broken there was the small matter of how to transport oxygen and nutrients to the cells and how to remove carbon dioxide and wastes from the bloodstream. None of us were expert in that area although Doug had once found a way to bypass the spouting when his shed was being flooded. Perhaps we should have shown the large gun toting man more respect. Or given in at an early stage.
Hearts on a chain, tiny fragile things. He fingers them wrapped loose around her wrist and he plucks them off one by one and gives each one a kiss. He wraps them up in tiny boxes and sends them out to sea. To people who are just like her.
Hearts are something that are meant to be broken. Let’s face the simple fact that at least once in your life you will break someone’s heart and they will break yours. Intentional or not you are going to experience at least one of these sides. Painful as it is it the truth and you will probably see that. I have done it. You have done it. There is no shame.
I remember when we would make love, and you would look at me and whisper, “Two hearts.” I would return the favor by replying with, “beat as one.” I loved you. I loved what we said.
Around the table with friends–one across, one to the left, one to the right. The main goal: to give each other undesired points, to keep away from them oneself. Enjoying company.
Oh hey! I think you have something of mine. Oh you don’t think you do? Who am I? Sorry, I may be mistaken but I’m pretty sure it’s you that has it. You said hello to me that one time when I was cleaning up after dinner. I gave it to you then, don’t you remember? Nothing? What about that time we chatted in the library I gave you another piece of it then? Still doesn’t ring a bell? Well here, this one will surely remind you. Remember when you told me I was beautiful and you danced with me and told me you were excited to see where this would go and that this was playing out like a movie and you kissed me? You’re confused. Oh, what am I looking for? It’s my heart silly, my heart.
I fell into the tank full of pink liquid and began sinking. This wasn’t normal liquid, or pink lemonade like Alice had suggested. I was sinking into an infinite pool of pink. I could breathe. Hearts were swirling around me.
The boy of my dreams gently takes my hand in his and peers straight into my eyes. “I know this may be… a bit straightforward–but I like you.”
I stare at him speechlessly and let my mouth gape open for several moments before pulling away, shaking my head. “No, no, there’s no way this is possible.”
“You don’t believe me?” He tilts his head, hurt.
I stare at him incrediously.
He had a jar of fairy hearts on my desk. They buzzed with a marvelously bubbly music. He listened to the sound and smiled as his ears noticeably tingled from the vibrations. He hadn’t taken the fairy hearts by force. He had found them, left with a little red card, telling him to take good care of them until the fairies came back for them.
The 8 of hearts card lay on the floor, surrounded by many others. Another card fluttered down to lay beside it and the pool of blood drew ever closer to them.
Gambling was over for the day. No one wins in roulette when it’s Russian.
hearts are what keeps us sane. our feelings come from there. I stood there, as i watched my heart shatter. I couldnt breathe. I was gasping for air, as i clutched onto my heart hoping you’d returned. but i knew you wouldnt, the doctor had said. I love you,
once whole,
but when you experience love,
will never be the same.
My heart was beating quickly. I looked down at my shoes and laughed. Hearts. I felt a little ironic. I walked forward, to what would be, the best day of my life. The best Valentine’s Day dance in the history of this high school.
Hearts were drawn on her face.
The marker color was magenta.
Yet, there was no smile upon her face.
She only looked at the people passing by
no emotions whatsoever.
You would see her pass
and the one thing you would notice instantly
are the two different colored eyes
that she has.
hearts are meant to be broken and mended a thousand times over. sometimes the two actions are done by the same person. This results in two hearts put together with all of their scars and bruises. the hurt fades but the memory of it makes the relationship stronger.
Separate. They are all surrounded by castle walls, in miniature. I construct siege towers. This shouldn’t be insurmountable. Tiny fireballs launched into the thrumming pits.
ah why is there only hearts, don’t break my heart, my achy break-y hear i don’t know the rest. i hate country music my hearts a stereo it beats for you so listen close oop times up
love, necessary for life, red, blood, organ, vital, the heart wants what the heart wants, involuntary aorta, veins, soul, heartache, heartbreak
hearts open to each other,
snuck into eachother.
secret silence.
Baby dreams upon white rabbits,
love replaced over and over.
She knew in her heart of hearts that this couldn’t go on. She knew that there was a reason why demons were portrayed in the light they were– it didn’t matter that it was only half his heritage, there was a reason. And she saw it daily, in the glares he gave people, the snarls, the threats. She’d seen him walking home covered in blood more than once, but some part of her, that larger part of her, didn’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t stop it, because, to end it would be to end not only their love, but to her power, too.
The heart of the bells. They rang so loud they pressed down on the the soul of any who listened. She cried out in fear, unknowing of where the sound came from. But it came from the heart… the heart of the bells. The sound rang through the room, rebounding and growing. Each return it gained strength… until the beauty of the sound pierced her heart.
Hearts. Love. All that jazz. Actually, one of the first things I thought of was Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri. And then I belted it out here in my dorm. NBD. I’m in a good mood. My HEART is happy. :) I’m just happy right now. And I was to just run around and be happy!
Hearts. Red, pink, white and blue. Sometimes I think there’s a bit of black missing. And then I realize that I’m alive and therefore I am the living example of it.
Hearts are beautiful, fragile things. In ways that I don’t think I could ever understand, even if I were to live to be a hundred years old. It’s like it’s something that doesn’t even compute properly, but yet, it’s there and it exists.
It’s strongest on its own and stronger with another. But to have the courage to share such a thing with another human being–that is a strength like no other.
Precious, beautiful hearts.
How do I know our hearts were meant to be? Because I can be frustrated and pissed at him one minute and the next minute laugh because he sent me some inside joke. And from there it all just melts back into a big cheesy grin for no reason. that’s how I know.
How often do we feel our hearts? Well, if you listen closely, they’re always there. Unfortunately, like many other things, we only notice them once something’s gone horribly wrong.
Two people. Two hearts. One love.
Hearts are easily broken. But they learn–they are strong. A person is judged by the strength of their character–the ability for them to stretch their heart and accept others. A heart may be fragile, but it also controls the entire body. It fills us with life biologically, but we cannot live without love.
Hearts collide like stars in space
To create a new universe
With just me and you.
I inevitably will hate the word you give me because it’s not what I wanted to write about. And I always think, is there an answer? A cleverest choice? Something I was too dumb to find, easily missed? Do you believe in me? Am I asking too many questions? Do you believe I can do it? Can I make anything of myself? Is it too early or too late?
Hearts intertwined
So tightly they begin to bleed
The love these two share
Is slowly killing them
And they have no idea.
They’ll die before they see
That what they had was
Just as fake and meaningless
As their worthless lives.
hearts in red and hears in black
Perphaps its hearts
that some of us lack….
Our hearts are hard. All of them like lions-head knockers on big wooden doors. Locked, hidden away. I wish I was brave enough, brave like her. Open your cat eyes and look at the world, see what it looks like when you’re not hiding behind that bloody heart smile.
That which dots the “i”s in a little girl’s love note; that which beats faster on the treadmill, feet pounding the rough rotating rubber; that which catches in the throat as a certain kind of eye contact is made, sending more than words between the two themselves…
Beating
faster and faster.
Thumping and pounding
vibrating in my ear.
Your lips draw near.
I feel your breath,
humid and steady
against my nervous skin.
Burning nose
traces chills
along my collarbone.
Awakening my nerves
like never before.
Soft lips nibble
moving up my laddered neck.
Following the outline
of my jaw bone,
stealthily searching for a kiss.
Beating. Breathing. Living. All those things need a heart. Hearts are the center of our lives. Even the ancients knew how important hearts are. We should too. Hearts help us live. They keep us strong.
Beating. Two of them together. Red. Light headed, throbbing. Fuzzy feelings and warm thoughts. Wrapped in glass and diamond, brass and gold. Tolling eternally, the sound of our souls.
Our hearts are broken, but we will never give in! Or so we said. But with our hearts broken there was the small matter of how to transport oxygen and nutrients to the cells and how to remove carbon dioxide and wastes from the bloodstream. None of us were expert in that area although Doug had once found a way to bypass the spouting when his shed was being flooded. Perhaps we should have shown the large gun toting man more respect. Or given in at an early stage.
Hearts on a chain, tiny fragile things. He fingers them wrapped loose around her wrist and he plucks them off one by one and gives each one a kiss. He wraps them up in tiny boxes and sends them out to sea. To people who are just like her.
this heart.
laden with the pain of each unspoken whisper.
heavy with the ache of each broken promise.
it’s always the silence that hurts the most.
silence so loud that it suffocates.
Hearts are something that are meant to be broken. Let’s face the simple fact that at least once in your life you will break someone’s heart and they will break yours. Intentional or not you are going to experience at least one of these sides. Painful as it is it the truth and you will probably see that. I have done it. You have done it. There is no shame.
I remember when we would make love, and you would look at me and whisper, “Two hearts.” I would return the favor by replying with, “beat as one.” I loved you. I loved what we said.
Around the table with friends–one across, one to the left, one to the right. The main goal: to give each other undesired points, to keep away from them oneself. Enjoying company.
hearts… extremely fragile, easily broken, difficult to be fixed again.
Oh hey! I think you have something of mine. Oh you don’t think you do? Who am I? Sorry, I may be mistaken but I’m pretty sure it’s you that has it. You said hello to me that one time when I was cleaning up after dinner. I gave it to you then, don’t you remember? Nothing? What about that time we chatted in the library I gave you another piece of it then? Still doesn’t ring a bell? Well here, this one will surely remind you. Remember when you told me I was beautiful and you danced with me and told me you were excited to see where this would go and that this was playing out like a movie and you kissed me? You’re confused. Oh, what am I looking for? It’s my heart silly, my heart.
I fell into the tank full of pink liquid and began sinking. This wasn’t normal liquid, or pink lemonade like Alice had suggested. I was sinking into an infinite pool of pink. I could breathe. Hearts were swirling around me.
The boy of my dreams gently takes my hand in his and peers straight into my eyes. “I know this may be… a bit straightforward–but I like you.”
I stare at him speechlessly and let my mouth gape open for several moments before pulling away, shaking my head. “No, no, there’s no way this is possible.”
“You don’t believe me?” He tilts his head, hurt.
I stare at him incrediously.
He had a jar of fairy hearts on my desk. They buzzed with a marvelously bubbly music. He listened to the sound and smiled as his ears noticeably tingled from the vibrations. He hadn’t taken the fairy hearts by force. He had found them, left with a little red card, telling him to take good care of them until the fairies came back for them.
The 8 of hearts card lay on the floor, surrounded by many others. Another card fluttered down to lay beside it and the pool of blood drew ever closer to them.
Gambling was over for the day. No one wins in roulette when it’s Russian.
Like candied hearts in july under the intense rays of a summer heat we both fall head over heels on love with one another.
Hearts of glass, hearts of stone.
Hearts together forever,
And hearts forever alone.
hearts are what keeps us sane. our feelings come from there. I stood there, as i watched my heart shatter. I couldnt breathe. I was gasping for air, as i clutched onto my heart hoping you’d returned. but i knew you wouldnt, the doctor had said. I love you,