i am so heated i can barely think about all the things that he has done to me. i think that it is time to sit down and talk this over with him. I want to talk about everything that he has done, well, not really. I want to communicate my feelings about our relationship and be able to understand each other.
She felt the blood rush to her face and the room got very warm. “Are you serious?”
He shrugged, half-defiant, half aware of the line he just crossed. “I just think,” he clipped, “That someone needed to tell you the truth.”
“And NOW is when you chose to tell me this? 8 minutes before I go out there?”
The sweat dripped down her forehead. Grabbing a dish towel from the sink she wiped the salty water off her face. The room was overheated and she could not understand why. With every drop of sweat that fell to the ground, she walked closer to the thermostat. Maybe it is in heater mode, which would explain her body making its own rain.
Car
A house
Food
A blanket
A jacket
the sun
A room
A rap battle
Heated gloves
Hot chocolate
Ski mask
North face e tip gloves
Heating pad
hot sox
panda hat
heated seats
heated shoes
would you drink my sweat if it was sweet, you ask the girl you’ve been consistently flirting with for a solid hour. disgusted, her eyeballs wholly turn black in the socket and she stands up and she doesn’t even tell the bartender to put it on her tab before she liquidizes into the slivers of space between the wooden boards
the cloth of the scarf had gone black and stiff around the edges of where you kept the iron. where you did keep the iron came off on the table and made an ashy mess when you blew
your skin is ready to burst. you think of biting into your lip like you’d bite into a sausage, the blood escaping your mouth, burning your chin, your jaw, your collarbone
the bath was heated and the hand responsible for that deed was intimate with your waist now. she led you into the water that smelled of chlorine and she held you under as she scrubbed the soap into your scalp, till the breath you held could be contained no longer and bubbles rose from your mouth. then the two of you laugh about it
the world went soft under sun, a star radiating heat like no one else’s business. and the children suffered for it. what does a bright and shining ball of gas and warmth and all the matter in the universe care about that though
sell it up, chocolate morsels in aluminum wrappers that melt in your car on a hot day and get into the crevices of the plastic that makes up your dashboard.
frantically she dug up the warm soil and it took hours, till her bones felt so hot she fancied her skin was cooking through–but she found what she was looking for. the scratched up silver compass burnt her fingertip’s skin at immediate contact
it was hot on her arms, the rain, and she thought that’s weird i must be dreaming. and the water poured down in torrents and it heated her freezing feet and warmed her body to the core till she was no longer in death’s embrace
she caught her lips in a heated exchange, and said, “you know, i have lots of thoughts and none of them involve you taking my socks off gently as we head to separate beds.”
Strong rays from the sun beamed down upon me, heating my face. A lonely bead of sweat trickled down my forehead, onto my nose – i tasted the salty bead – gross!
we talked for hours about our dreams
all those years ago
how your success defines you
acting out
a heated fever
a memory
the words you said
how we grew together that night
how you made those promises that night
those moments
go so slowly in the mind
dripping flashes of time
a smile
a glass of wine
hardly hearty
back to where we start
i could not talk or move. the room had gray walls and one chair in the corner. a vintage mirror decorating only one wall. the room felt stuffed and heated. i didnt know where i was or how i got here
The weather was closing in. On three sides a black, heated and angry mass of trouble roiled towards us. This was trouble, the storm clouds were heavily weighted and descending fast. In the last light of day, looking at the mountain path I was unsure how far we could get before the downpour started. We seemed to be heading up to meet it. Up there was a cabin and shelter.
The Earth beneath Pompeii had been molten for a long time, creeping steadily right under the skin of the city. The march of people though the carefully cobbled mosaic streets was a drum, a steady beat it advanced to. When it rumbled, the city took a collective deep breath in, let it out slow, told themselves to let it go. When the children screamed and threw themselves on the dirt in a fit, the Earth, it spit, but the mothers pretended to walk away and let the passion settle by running itself dry. When the lovers caught a glance, skin of goosebumps at their secret, the trees too stood erect, and the heat breached the air and spilled over, even as they blink rapidly and wait for the warmth to pass, telling themselves it’ll never last.
Through the breaths and the steps and actions just bordering rash,
Before there was time to turn, the city was ash.
I was heated. Once again he had broken into my house and stolen one of my precious items. How did I let this happen so often? I keep blaming myself for something I have no control over. Locks? All replaced. Screens? Every time. There was nothing left to do.
Heated things are nice. I really enjoy being by fire. The flames and the heat are oh so inviting.
I don’t like to be cold so heated things are great in my opinion.
Every morning he had to choose between one of two states he would spend his entire day in. He could be heated in the mind and cool in the spirit, or cool in the mind and heated in the spirit. The medicine allowed him choose, but he could only choose once every 24 hours. A heated mind meant focus, motivation, and determination were paramount. He could sit for hours at a desk and process all of the work he had for the day without breaking a sweat and his cooled spirit mean that emotions, distractions, desires, and instincts were kept well in check and not of any hindrance to success.
However, his natural state was one of a heated spirit. Left completely to his own devices he was ruled by his desires, instincts, and emotional responses. This meant he was naturally a very distracted person and he would have trouble finding the success he needed in his life as an adult. His heated spirit was too susceptible to confusion, aggravation, laziness, and lust. Looking back now he often wonders if wishes he was never given the choice in the first place. If the medicine had never been offered to him would he be happier? Would it have made any difference at all?
“I hate you!” I screamed and slammed the door close behind me. My mum and I had gotten into a heated discussion about me visiting a friend of mine. I wanted to stay over at his house tonight, but my mum doesn’t allow me because he’s my ex. What she doesn’t know is that we indeed have a friends with benefits relation…
She knew it was inevitable for things to become heated, so she tried to avoid certain situations altogether. She knew it didn’t fix the underlying issue, but what else was she supposed to do?
The bar he held out to me was heated to such a temperature that I could feel from a distance the heat emanating off it. I took the end that wasn’t hot in my hand and pressed the seal to the wax. As soon as I did, the wax instantly melted into a puddle on the paper.
The discussion was becoming quite heated now. Would they ever find a solution? It seemed like an impossible goal. She was right. He was right as well. She was also very wrong, and he was so, so incredibly mistaken as well. That is love for you.
Anger, suddenly arising within you. You have no control over what is coming out of you. You are filled with so much emotion that your face feels the heat, you are heated.
The conversation was tepid at first, but it got heated pretty damn quickly. Karen and Nicholas were both red-faced and fuming, their clenched fists hidden under the table, as Oliver tried to nonchalantly focused on eating his stew. His brother, Derek, stared listlessly out the window, wishing that the passing cars were loud enough to muffle his parents’ screaming.
The discussion became heated. Over what? And why? We had been friends before I met husband, It felt like judgment was being flung at me. If I had not had the tools to wipe it off, I would be in a bad place. I understand how judgment can stop one in their tracks. However, I am no longer that little girl who allowed what people thought of her to dictate my actions
I am a grown woman who knows the truth which has set me free. A heated discussion will not take me out and either will judgment or intimidation. I am a woman who walks by faith when I am not struggling with my right foot.
Sometimes when I am “heated” , I find myself taking it out on other people . It may get verbal or it may get physical . I just want to be alone most days and nobody really understands that want . they just assume I have an attitude , but they create the attitude that I did not have .
I looked at the mirror to fine red marks where the tears had run down my face. I couldn’t stand this any longer.
A few hours ago, before I had locked myself in my room, my husband and I were having a heated conversation. This so-called “conversation” had turned into an argument. We were screaming at each other, the echoes of our voices ran off the kitchen, though thought raced through my mind; Should we get a divorce? The children don’t go near him anymore… I wonder what he’s done to hurt them, either mentally for physically. I couldn’t hold it any longer.
Now, I picked up the phone to call my parents. I had to stay at their place with the kids until the dust has settled.
The car seat felt comfortable under her. She pressed the accelerator through, then she reminded herself, not to. She wanted to enjoy this comfort a little longer. Not like her car, not at all. She was happy for a few moments, that her car had broken down.
i am so heated i can barely think about all the things that he has done to me. i think that it is time to sit down and talk this over with him. I want to talk about everything that he has done, well, not really. I want to communicate my feelings about our relationship and be able to understand each other.
I’m heated. I keep getting the same word over and over. I want a new one!
She felt the blood rush to her face and the room got very warm. “Are you serious?”
He shrugged, half-defiant, half aware of the line he just crossed. “I just think,” he clipped, “That someone needed to tell you the truth.”
“And NOW is when you chose to tell me this? 8 minutes before I go out there?”
The sweat dripped down her forehead. Grabbing a dish towel from the sink she wiped the salty water off her face. The room was overheated and she could not understand why. With every drop of sweat that fell to the ground, she walked closer to the thermostat. Maybe it is in heater mode, which would explain her body making its own rain.
Car
A house
Food
A blanket
A jacket
the sun
A room
A rap battle
Heated gloves
Hot chocolate
Ski mask
North face e tip gloves
Heating pad
hot sox
panda hat
heated seats
heated shoes
would you drink my sweat if it was sweet, you ask the girl you’ve been consistently flirting with for a solid hour. disgusted, her eyeballs wholly turn black in the socket and she stands up and she doesn’t even tell the bartender to put it on her tab before she liquidizes into the slivers of space between the wooden boards
drink warmed her in places she should not be warmed and so she goes back home defeated and wanting and wanting and defeated and loneliest of all
the cloth of the scarf had gone black and stiff around the edges of where you kept the iron. where you did keep the iron came off on the table and made an ashy mess when you blew
your skin is ready to burst. you think of biting into your lip like you’d bite into a sausage, the blood escaping your mouth, burning your chin, your jaw, your collarbone
the bath was heated and the hand responsible for that deed was intimate with your waist now. she led you into the water that smelled of chlorine and she held you under as she scrubbed the soap into your scalp, till the breath you held could be contained no longer and bubbles rose from your mouth. then the two of you laugh about it
the world went soft under sun, a star radiating heat like no one else’s business. and the children suffered for it. what does a bright and shining ball of gas and warmth and all the matter in the universe care about that though
sell it up, chocolate morsels in aluminum wrappers that melt in your car on a hot day and get into the crevices of the plastic that makes up your dashboard.
frantically she dug up the warm soil and it took hours, till her bones felt so hot she fancied her skin was cooking through–but she found what she was looking for. the scratched up silver compass burnt her fingertip’s skin at immediate contact
it was hot on her arms, the rain, and she thought that’s weird i must be dreaming. and the water poured down in torrents and it heated her freezing feet and warmed her body to the core till she was no longer in death’s embrace
she caught her lips in a heated exchange, and said, “you know, i have lots of thoughts and none of them involve you taking my socks off gently as we head to separate beds.”
Strong rays from the sun beamed down upon me, heating my face. A lonely bead of sweat trickled down my forehead, onto my nose – i tasted the salty bead – gross!
we talked for hours about our dreams
all those years ago
how your success defines you
acting out
a heated fever
a memory
the words you said
how we grew together that night
how you made those promises that night
those moments
go so slowly in the mind
dripping flashes of time
a smile
a glass of wine
hardly hearty
back to where we start
i could not talk or move. the room had gray walls and one chair in the corner. a vintage mirror decorating only one wall. the room felt stuffed and heated. i didnt know where i was or how i got here
“Do you see the light?”
The weather was closing in. On three sides a black, heated and angry mass of trouble roiled towards us. This was trouble, the storm clouds were heavily weighted and descending fast. In the last light of day, looking at the mountain path I was unsure how far we could get before the downpour started. We seemed to be heading up to meet it. Up there was a cabin and shelter.
The Earth beneath Pompeii had been molten for a long time, creeping steadily right under the skin of the city. The march of people though the carefully cobbled mosaic streets was a drum, a steady beat it advanced to. When it rumbled, the city took a collective deep breath in, let it out slow, told themselves to let it go. When the children screamed and threw themselves on the dirt in a fit, the Earth, it spit, but the mothers pretended to walk away and let the passion settle by running itself dry. When the lovers caught a glance, skin of goosebumps at their secret, the trees too stood erect, and the heat breached the air and spilled over, even as they blink rapidly and wait for the warmth to pass, telling themselves it’ll never last.
Through the breaths and the steps and actions just bordering rash,
Before there was time to turn, the city was ash.
I was heated. Once again he had broken into my house and stolen one of my precious items. How did I let this happen so often? I keep blaming myself for something I have no control over. Locks? All replaced. Screens? Every time. There was nothing left to do.
Heated things are nice. I really enjoy being by fire. The flames and the heat are oh so inviting.
I don’t like to be cold so heated things are great in my opinion.
She is heated up not because it is 98 degrees outside, but inside her very being that is ready to explode: because she can’t take it anymore.
Every morning he had to choose between one of two states he would spend his entire day in. He could be heated in the mind and cool in the spirit, or cool in the mind and heated in the spirit. The medicine allowed him choose, but he could only choose once every 24 hours. A heated mind meant focus, motivation, and determination were paramount. He could sit for hours at a desk and process all of the work he had for the day without breaking a sweat and his cooled spirit mean that emotions, distractions, desires, and instincts were kept well in check and not of any hindrance to success.
However, his natural state was one of a heated spirit. Left completely to his own devices he was ruled by his desires, instincts, and emotional responses. This meant he was naturally a very distracted person and he would have trouble finding the success he needed in his life as an adult. His heated spirit was too susceptible to confusion, aggravation, laziness, and lust. Looking back now he often wonders if wishes he was never given the choice in the first place. If the medicine had never been offered to him would he be happier? Would it have made any difference at all?
“I hate you!” I screamed and slammed the door close behind me. My mum and I had gotten into a heated discussion about me visiting a friend of mine. I wanted to stay over at his house tonight, but my mum doesn’t allow me because he’s my ex. What she doesn’t know is that we indeed have a friends with benefits relation…
She knew it was inevitable for things to become heated, so she tried to avoid certain situations altogether. She knew it didn’t fix the underlying issue, but what else was she supposed to do?
mike was a fine guy, the more its surprising they are having a heated argument with him.
The bar he held out to me was heated to such a temperature that I could feel from a distance the heat emanating off it. I took the end that wasn’t hot in my hand and pressed the seal to the wax. As soon as I did, the wax instantly melted into a puddle on the paper.
The discussion was becoming quite heated now. Would they ever find a solution? It seemed like an impossible goal. She was right. He was right as well. She was also very wrong, and he was so, so incredibly mistaken as well. That is love for you.
Anger, suddenly arising within you. You have no control over what is coming out of you. You are filled with so much emotion that your face feels the heat, you are heated.
The conversation was tepid at first, but it got heated pretty damn quickly. Karen and Nicholas were both red-faced and fuming, their clenched fists hidden under the table, as Oliver tried to nonchalantly focused on eating his stew. His brother, Derek, stared listlessly out the window, wishing that the passing cars were loud enough to muffle his parents’ screaming.
The discussion became heated. Over what? And why? We had been friends before I met husband, It felt like judgment was being flung at me. If I had not had the tools to wipe it off, I would be in a bad place. I understand how judgment can stop one in their tracks. However, I am no longer that little girl who allowed what people thought of her to dictate my actions
I am a grown woman who knows the truth which has set me free. A heated discussion will not take me out and either will judgment or intimidation. I am a woman who walks by faith when I am not struggling with my right foot.
Sometimes when I am “heated” , I find myself taking it out on other people . It may get verbal or it may get physical . I just want to be alone most days and nobody really understands that want . they just assume I have an attitude , but they create the attitude that I did not have .
I looked at the mirror to fine red marks where the tears had run down my face. I couldn’t stand this any longer.
A few hours ago, before I had locked myself in my room, my husband and I were having a heated conversation. This so-called “conversation” had turned into an argument. We were screaming at each other, the echoes of our voices ran off the kitchen, though thought raced through my mind; Should we get a divorce? The children don’t go near him anymore… I wonder what he’s done to hurt them, either mentally for physically. I couldn’t hold it any longer.
Now, I picked up the phone to call my parents. I had to stay at their place with the kids until the dust has settled.
The car seat felt comfortable under her. She pressed the accelerator through, then she reminded herself, not to. She wanted to enjoy this comfort a little longer. Not like her car, not at all. She was happy for a few moments, that her car had broken down.