And then she took another hit. And he just stood there, like the coward he always knew he was. While they hit her over and over again. He closed his eyes and didn;t open them until he heard her fall down and scream.
I reached out and hit him straight across the face. He reeled back, both from the impact of the slap and from the shock of me lashing out. “You bitch!” he screamed at me. The impact of what I had just done, hit me. I felt ashamed, like a child abuser. He was only a child, and even though he had goaded me and goaded me, I was the adult in this situation.
I want to hit you in the face so bad. I mean your face is just so hitable. I want to hit you like a hit record.
HIT.
HAT.
HUT.
HOT.
HET.
whatever you say, I still want to hit you.
It hurts. Don’t punch. Or a star is born. It’s a hit. You going out a nobody and coming back a star. Everyone hopes to have one at least once in this business. HIT!!!
I can’t believe I am going to do this again! I always thought I had this deadly compulsion under control. It feels so good. I have been working so hard and I deserve this.
one word and i’m barely there to see the parade. someone gave me a golden ticket and so i thought only of how i was regular, just regular and soon they would find out and send me back to the farm.
I had, had enough! i just hit out. for years those girls had teased me and taunted me. pulled my hair, took my homework, forced my head down the toilet. It happened all of a sudden, one moment i was struggling to hold my breath and keep the manky toilet water out of my mouth and the next she was lying on the floor unconcious and a warm trickle of blood was running down my wrist.
Hit the bottle! Go lump! Dump the wump! How the hell am I supposed to write about a word like hit! What kind of t a word id that” I’m surprised that it should make me…. not quite ANGRY, but sort of resistant.
the pain.
the hot, searing pain
shoots through my head
as he brings the bottle down.
the screams.
die in my throat,
gone before the next strike.
it’s no use.
it’ll only
make each hit
harder.
The dinner was a big hit. The batter hit it out of the park. The disgusting, cowardly man hit the woman with full force. I hit upon a great idea today and made it into a reality!
Yesterday I received a big hit. I can’t believe it… it came out of nowhere and I found myself laying sideways with my kite in the air and the ice cracking underneath me. What was I supposed to do, the wind came out of nowhere and broadsided me. So painful, it caused me to auger into the ground with extreme force.
I once hit my friend across the face while we were playing with her barbies. It shocked her. I think she wanted to hit back but she never did. I realize now that she had never had that happen to her before. I treated her just as I wouyld have my own sister who did let me have my way.
The world went red. James could feel blood fly away from his mouth as he spun backwards. He hit the ground hard, Tanya looking down and taunting “Who hits like a girl?”
there’s this regret in the pit of my stomach that i carry around with me and try to forget. it doesn’t matter much, i suppose, because most of the time i can forget it. but every now and then it
today, something hit me really hard – mentally, of course. and i’m not sure i can even say it out loud to myself, because i don’t even truly believe it. i don’t want to believe it.
usually, i’d write a poem. but i don’t really feel like it right now, honestly.
he hit the windshield while spittle flew from his lips
happy joyous delight
inside broken glass, a little blood on one hand
the taste of her lipstick
air warm muggy summer night
Another day, another hit. Has it become this? Yes, actually. Is that a problem? No. Dependence is generally seen as a positive thing, countries are dependent upon one another, people are dependent on one another. Independence is a myth. All that remains is
take a hit a puff a drag hit a drag queen bitch fight cat fight cats kittens puffy fur balls balls of cotton king cotton cotton clothes blue jeans that book about cotton and soft things made of plants like flax and linen and you eat flax
It hit me like a bullet in the back; there he was, there he had always been, there he would always be. But when you’re as messed up as I was and your eyes are blind to the things it does not want to see, you force yourself to believe in the strangest things imaginable – only to find the complete opposite is often true.
There’s no good way to cover up a bruise. Thankfully he never puts them where people are apt to see them. He’s real considerate that way. I picked a winner.
the baseball bat hit my square in the nose. i thought that if standing up for myself would get me out of trouble but apparently not. Now my parents are mad and i made another enemy. great..
you hit yo beat
you cry you scream
please wake me up
let me know this is a dream
this can’t be real
he said he’d never to this
but i lied too
i thought i’d never miss him
The first hit of a smoking device is so joyous. Especially when the trap is filled with marijuana. Feeling the hit of marijuana slowly take over your body is like a wave flowing through your insides. It first hits your head and relaxes you allowing you to have an open mind. As it flows from your brain like a burst of relaxation it slowly moves through the rest of you slowly cutting all of the strings of tension holding your muscles tightly and the rest of you together. You’re suddenly on cloud 9. Finally it stops at your stomach. Here, the relaxation cuts all ties between your brain and your stomach allowing you to crave millions of concoctions… all of which would sound absolutely questionable without the intoxication of Mary Jane. When these concoctions hit your mouth, they taste better than anything you could ever imagine. Taking a hit of marijuana is like taking a hit of heaven.
With the first hit she split his eye open. He laughed and told her to try another, oblivious to the fact that this was no longer a fun sparring match. She wanted to kill him, at least to break his nose and shut him up. She hit him again and felt a crack. Grinning, she headed for the showers.
I want to hit a fly and send it flying through the air. I’ll kick it’s butt and make it cry and then I will poke it in the eye. It makes me laugh, it makes me dance, I feel like I am in a trance. I want to hit it, flick it, nip it. When I hit it I will flick it to the stars and put it in my underwear. I will dance and jump and sit on the seat and it will be between my cheeks.
Your lips smack mine as your fist plays a fine blow to my ribcage; an admirable and orchestral incongruity. I bite down, taste a tinge of iron. Foul and ferrous. You recoil, I’m left bleeding, and what a motherfucking mess we are.
And then she took another hit. And he just stood there, like the coward he always knew he was. While they hit her over and over again. He closed his eyes and didn;t open them until he heard her fall down and scream.
i’m sorry i can’t add and subtract the plastic number magnets on the side of your fridge.
He was hit by a car. That was a big hit in the ninth by Ted
Williams. He hit on me every day. That meal was a big hit.
Hit has so many hits that it doesn’t hit anything–typical hitless North American culture, a bit of Borges, eh?
I reached out and hit him straight across the face. He reeled back, both from the impact of the slap and from the shock of me lashing out. “You bitch!” he screamed at me. The impact of what I had just done, hit me. I felt ashamed, like a child abuser. He was only a child, and even though he had goaded me and goaded me, I was the adult in this situation.
I want to hit you in the face so bad. I mean your face is just so hitable. I want to hit you like a hit record.
HIT.
HAT.
HUT.
HOT.
HET.
whatever you say, I still want to hit you.
fuck pain woman man dichotomy slap shock anger release hands holding hands embrace
It hurts. Don’t punch. Or a star is born. It’s a hit. You going out a nobody and coming back a star. Everyone hopes to have one at least once in this business. HIT!!!
Hit. I’ve known people to take a hit. Some really HIT, some hit to get a hit.
I can’t believe I am going to do this again! I always thought I had this deadly compulsion under control. It feels so good. I have been working so hard and I deserve this.
one word and i’m barely there to see the parade. someone gave me a golden ticket and so i thought only of how i was regular, just regular and soon they would find out and send me back to the farm.
it’s hit and miss nowadays. i might be happy, euphoric even, or i might be depressed and dejected.
one can only hope things get better from here, and not worse.
I had, had enough! i just hit out. for years those girls had teased me and taunted me. pulled my hair, took my homework, forced my head down the toilet. It happened all of a sudden, one moment i was struggling to hold my breath and keep the manky toilet water out of my mouth and the next she was lying on the floor unconcious and a warm trickle of blood was running down my wrist.
Hit the bottle! Go lump! Dump the wump! How the hell am I supposed to write about a word like hit! What kind of t a word id that” I’m surprised that it should make me…. not quite ANGRY, but sort of resistant.
the pain.
the hot, searing pain
shoots through my head
as he brings the bottle down.
the screams.
die in my throat,
gone before the next strike.
it’s no use.
it’ll only
make each hit
harder.
He hit the ball and watched as it sailed over the field. He willed it farther and farther, until it began to enter a descending arc. The crowd roared.
The dinner was a big hit. The batter hit it out of the park. The disgusting, cowardly man hit the woman with full force. I hit upon a great idea today and made it into a reality!
Yesterday I received a big hit. I can’t believe it… it came out of nowhere and I found myself laying sideways with my kite in the air and the ice cracking underneath me. What was I supposed to do, the wind came out of nowhere and broadsided me. So painful, it caused me to auger into the ground with extreme force.
I once hit my friend across the face while we were playing with her barbies. It shocked her. I think she wanted to hit back but she never did. I realize now that she had never had that happen to her before. I treated her just as I wouyld have my own sister who did let me have my way.
the sudden shock of panic
ready the lifeboats
prepare to fight back
we’ve been hit
save the gold before we sink
He hit her so hard that she fell right between the plants in the lobby. “I’m sorry”, she whispered. “I’m so sorry…”
i want to hit something. She hit the ground with a stick. He hit his head. when you smack something. Hit the baseball. she hit a dog.
hit a cat.
The world went red. James could feel blood fly away from his mouth as he spun backwards. He hit the ground hard, Tanya looking down and taunting “Who hits like a girl?”
melanie fiona monday morning music love songs top 40 mtv mtv2 yes
there’s this regret in the pit of my stomach that i carry around with me and try to forget. it doesn’t matter much, i suppose, because most of the time i can forget it. but every now and then it
today, something hit me really hard – mentally, of course. and i’m not sure i can even say it out loud to myself, because i don’t even truly believe it. i don’t want to believe it.
usually, i’d write a poem. but i don’t really feel like it right now, honestly.
he hit the windshield while spittle flew from his lips
happy joyous delight
inside broken glass, a little blood on one hand
the taste of her lipstick
air warm muggy summer night
Another day, another hit. Has it become this? Yes, actually. Is that a problem? No. Dependence is generally seen as a positive thing, countries are dependent upon one another, people are dependent on one another. Independence is a myth. All that remains is
fight, power, pain, strength, weakness, strike, force, violence, actions, consequences, lesson
take a hit a puff a drag hit a drag queen bitch fight cat fight cats kittens puffy fur balls balls of cotton king cotton cotton clothes blue jeans that book about cotton and soft things made of plants like flax and linen and you eat flax
This is the ultimate mojo. This is what you want. What I want. This is it. Hit.
It hit me like a bullet in the back; there he was, there he had always been, there he would always be. But when you’re as messed up as I was and your eyes are blind to the things it does not want to see, you force yourself to believe in the strangest things imaginable – only to find the complete opposite is often true.
There’s no good way to cover up a bruise. Thankfully he never puts them where people are apt to see them. He’s real considerate that way. I picked a winner.
the baseball bat hit my square in the nose. i thought that if standing up for myself would get me out of trouble but apparently not. Now my parents are mad and i made another enemy. great..
you hit yo beat
you cry you scream
please wake me up
let me know this is a dream
this can’t be real
he said he’d never to this
but i lied too
i thought i’d never miss him
I hit him hard. He deserved it, he was a bad man. He begged me to stop but I didn’t I just kept hitting.
so then, it hit me, this man is actually telling the truth, he ain’t lying to me!
The first hit of a smoking device is so joyous. Especially when the trap is filled with marijuana. Feeling the hit of marijuana slowly take over your body is like a wave flowing through your insides. It first hits your head and relaxes you allowing you to have an open mind. As it flows from your brain like a burst of relaxation it slowly moves through the rest of you slowly cutting all of the strings of tension holding your muscles tightly and the rest of you together. You’re suddenly on cloud 9. Finally it stops at your stomach. Here, the relaxation cuts all ties between your brain and your stomach allowing you to crave millions of concoctions… all of which would sound absolutely questionable without the intoxication of Mary Jane. When these concoctions hit your mouth, they taste better than anything you could ever imagine. Taking a hit of marijuana is like taking a hit of heaven.
With the first hit she split his eye open. He laughed and told her to try another, oblivious to the fact that this was no longer a fun sparring match. She wanted to kill him, at least to break his nose and shut him up. She hit him again and felt a crack. Grinning, she headed for the showers.
I want to hit a fly and send it flying through the air. I’ll kick it’s butt and make it cry and then I will poke it in the eye. It makes me laugh, it makes me dance, I feel like I am in a trance. I want to hit it, flick it, nip it. When I hit it I will flick it to the stars and put it in my underwear. I will dance and jump and sit on the seat and it will be between my cheeks.
Your lips smack mine as your fist plays a fine blow to my ribcage; an admirable and orchestral incongruity. I bite down, taste a tinge of iron. Foul and ferrous. You recoil, I’m left bleeding, and what a motherfucking mess we are.
Mixed messages, mister. Don’t do no good.