Icy mist breathe streaming through the air into the heart of a young child who was suicidal and he decided to eat peanut butter that hadbeen frozen with chocolate icecream and man eating strawberries that were going to eat your daddy who was actually darth vader who was really the phantom of the opera who killed christine and then ate megs undergarments and heehee im on gaia and im breaking your forums and eating your posts yummy bye bye time is now cause im done.
The spring came forth and I stood there waiting for something, waiting for my chance to cry: “I’m Texan. My blood’s always been to thick for this climate!” And then it dawned on me. I’d only ever lived, or rather chosen to li
It was icy. Very icy. The road that is. The road was icy. So was the car. Hell, my hair was icy. Everything around me was icy. The night sky was icy; you could see it around the moon. You know how it gets those icy rings.
Icy is cold. Very cold. Bone chillingly, skin pricklingly cold. Almost like space. I imagine space is very cold. Lonesome. Because it is so icy; cold, ya know?
I think that even Coca-Cola with ice in it gets lonesome sometimes, because it’s brothers that have no ice shun it, simply because it’s different.
She walked outside into the frostbitten air. She knew that the weather man said it was too cold, and to remain inside, but she was helpless. Nope. She was going for it. As soon as her feet touched the ground her feet turned into icy popsicles.
The gaze she shot me was icy, accusing me of everything she had with words all over again. My innocence didn’t matter at all, she needed someone to blame other than herself and unfortunately it was me. But still I couldn’t help feeling frozen as she glared at me and walked away.
it was a cold night. Colder than he could remember. Last year, about this time, it had still been sunny. But this year was different. Standing on the front porch he waited for the coach to come back. Waiting for her. It always amused him to stand there on the porch, watching the world go by. And then, as the sun set and the night owls began to prowl, she would arrive.
cool ice cream, on a summer day. my friends splashing me witht the waterballons they put ice in. Movies, and popcorn (icee) road trips with my brother. licking the ice drips in winter. fun.
I can remember when I lived in Kansas and the icy driveway me and Peaches had to walk down when I took her out. It was steep so it was a like ice skating down the driveway. We would slide down.
My arms shook uncontrollably inside my thick coat. I sat huddled at the bus stop, unsure that a bus was even coming. I saw a man dissapear into a store down the road and light spilled out the door like the licks of a flame.
the icy summer of my love was here at last. Couldn’t believe I could feel that way … it was cold and sad and happy and I knew it was for the best I don’t think it would have been in better another way.
Like sticking your hand in the freezer.
For hours.
She said she’ll be back.
Just keep that hand in there.
Any second now.
Any second.
Maybe minute.
Any minute.
Any minute now.
Icy. That’s how the blood turned in my veins when I heard him finally spell out the news. I probably had known it for a while, picking up on subtle changes, like the ripple created by a distant butterfly’s wing flapping in the air. But there it was. For good.
Icy cold people klaugh at me from the backdrop of insanity. Where am i? Who am I, what am I. In the end I ask myself, what it is that causes the icy people to be here, I hear them say, it’s your soul…then I smoke some bud.
She’s being a bitch today. So cold, like she doesn’t give a fuck that I exist. I hate it when she gets like this. It makes me feel small; unimportant. I do not like feeling useless.
Slipping on the tread of my sneakers my feet fly out from under me. I’m staring at the sky before I register what’s happened, and the ache sets in. It’s a dull throb I know will last, and I can’t believe how warm my head becomes from contact with ice.
there is nothing more refreshing than a tall icy lemonade on a hot summer’s day. nothing that is except for a cold beer. or a gin and tonic. or a jack on the rocks. never mind the lemonade on second thought.
the road was getting worse. the condtions wre not in our favor. i turned to ryan and told him to pull over. he failed to heed my instruction. next we knew w 18 wheel mac truck came within inches of our left headlight, and a screeching sound and smell of burning rubber filled the air. it was terrible. ryan was crying and furious, i was glad to be alive. the road was icy, and my brian was fogged. i had no clue that someone could be so affected by one infinitesimal in life, but ryan was. he never was the same. today as i sit in the mental institution, i recollect, while he dies, slowly and painfully.
For the most part he seemed cold. Frozen. Just like he’d always been — those cold, light blue eyes, the colour of ice crushed under its own weight for God knew how long.
If you’d ever met the man, though, you’d find out — despite appearances, he ran hot. Despite those eyes, this guy was more passionate than you could know.
Icy mist breathe streaming through the air into the heart of a young child who was suicidal and he decided to eat peanut butter that hadbeen frozen with chocolate icecream and man eating strawberries that were going to eat your daddy who was actually darth vader who was really the phantom of the opera who killed christine and then ate megs undergarments and heehee im on gaia and im breaking your forums and eating your posts yummy bye bye time is now cause im done.
The spring came forth and I stood there waiting for something, waiting for my chance to cry: “I’m Texan. My blood’s always been to thick for this climate!” And then it dawned on me. I’d only ever lived, or rather chosen to li
It was icy. Very icy. The road that is. The road was icy. So was the car. Hell, my hair was icy. Everything around me was icy. The night sky was icy; you could see it around the moon. You know how it gets those icy rings.
Icy is cold. Very cold. Bone chillingly, skin pricklingly cold. Almost like space. I imagine space is very cold. Lonesome. Because it is so icy; cold, ya know?
I think that even Coca-Cola with ice in it gets lonesome sometimes, because it’s brothers that have no ice shun it, simply because it’s different.
She walked outside into the frostbitten air. She knew that the weather man said it was too cold, and to remain inside, but she was helpless. Nope. She was going for it. As soon as her feet touched the ground her feet turned into icy popsicles.
there was a cup of water and an empty tray of ice. she stuck a Popsicle inside the cup because it’s all she could do to stay sane.
The gaze she shot me was icy, accusing me of everything she had with words all over again. My innocence didn’t matter at all, she needed someone to blame other than herself and unfortunately it was me. But still I couldn’t help feeling frozen as she glared at me and walked away.
it was a cold night. Colder than he could remember. Last year, about this time, it had still been sunny. But this year was different. Standing on the front porch he waited for the coach to come back. Waiting for her. It always amused him to stand there on the porch, watching the world go by. And then, as the sun set and the night owls began to prowl, she would arrive.
cool ice cream, on a summer day. my friends splashing me witht the waterballons they put ice in. Movies, and popcorn (icee) road trips with my brother. licking the ice drips in winter. fun.
I can remember when I lived in Kansas and the icy driveway me and Peaches had to walk down when I took her out. It was steep so it was a like ice skating down the driveway. We would slide down.
cold wet winter fall slip skate freeze nose socks scarf mittens hat
Why is there no new word?
My arms shook uncontrollably inside my thick coat. I sat huddled at the bus stop, unsure that a bus was even coming. I saw a man dissapear into a store down the road and light spilled out the door like the licks of a flame.
the icy summer of my love was here at last. Couldn’t believe I could feel that way … it was cold and sad and happy and I knew it was for the best I don’t think it would have been in better another way.
Like sticking your hand in the freezer.
For hours.
She said she’ll be back.
Just keep that hand in there.
Any second now.
Any second.
Maybe minute.
Any minute.
Any minute now.
she was staring me down with those icy blue eyes as her hand clasped her wine glass.
Icy. That’s how the blood turned in my veins when I heard him finally spell out the news. I probably had known it for a while, picking up on subtle changes, like the ripple created by a distant butterfly’s wing flapping in the air. But there it was. For good.
“It’s so cold”, he shivered and he closed his eyes. “No!” I screamed selfishly. We were going to die in this frozen wasteland.
bear chiller candy and finally what i can say about this word is i can see clearly
Icy cold people klaugh at me from the backdrop of insanity. Where am i? Who am I, what am I. In the end I ask myself, what it is that causes the icy people to be here, I hear them say, it’s your soul…then I smoke some bud.
She’s being a bitch today. So cold, like she doesn’t give a fuck that I exist. I hate it when she gets like this. It makes me feel small; unimportant. I do not like feeling useless.
chilly and cool refreshing sparkly relflective nice on my skin
Slipping on the tread of my sneakers my feet fly out from under me. I’m staring at the sky before I register what’s happened, and the ache sets in. It’s a dull throb I know will last, and I can’t believe how warm my head becomes from contact with ice.
there is nothing more refreshing than a tall icy lemonade on a hot summer’s day. nothing that is except for a cold beer. or a gin and tonic. or a jack on the rocks. never mind the lemonade on second thought.
lonely dark and all alone freezing cold indifferent painful ignored sad chills sightless
Icy yew and yew sea me.
the road was getting worse. the condtions wre not in our favor. i turned to ryan and told him to pull over. he failed to heed my instruction. next we knew w 18 wheel mac truck came within inches of our left headlight, and a screeching sound and smell of burning rubber filled the air. it was terrible. ryan was crying and furious, i was glad to be alive. the road was icy, and my brian was fogged. i had no clue that someone could be so affected by one infinitesimal in life, but ryan was. he never was the same. today as i sit in the mental institution, i recollect, while he dies, slowly and painfully.
cold eyes
For the most part he seemed cold. Frozen. Just like he’d always been — those cold, light blue eyes, the colour of ice crushed under its own weight for God knew how long.
If you’d ever met the man, though, you’d find out — despite appearances, he ran hot. Despite those eyes, this guy was more passionate than you could know.