the suff on the bathroom walls after a fight. you clean it with bleach and apologies, youmust be vigelent or it will pop up when you really don’t need it
The residue…the remnants.
What’s left behind. The last sprinklings of memory haunt me. They haunt me, they haunt me. I cannot clean it up. The wind will not carry it away.
They haunt me.
I took my eyes away from the road for a split second. The next thing I remember is the dark red residue of the child’s blood on her lips. If only I could go back now, I would never take my eyes off the road.
Residue. The dew on a flower petal, on the green spring grass. The drips from a freshly painted wall. The glistening leftovers of what is beautiful, the peaceful aftermath in the quiet after-minutes of art, of rain, of sex.
i don’t know what this word is. it sounds kind of like another word for dirty. i feel dumb for not knowing what it means because i have heard this word before, but i can’t think of where!
i lightly brushed the tear away, leaving a residue of ash smeared over her cheek. It looked so out of place there, that streak of black jarring against her cold, pale skin; a jagged scream of emptiness dug lightly into the snow.
The residue left at the bottom of the glass is 80% backwash or something. At least that’s what a friend used to say. I believe her. And just like that, we got in the habit of not drinking/finishing off other people’s drinks. Well, except for each others. I miss her.
I was walking in the forest when I came upon a rather odd sort of residue. Weather it was left there or just sort of appeared, I had no knowledge. I stared at the odd residue for a few minutes before I started to determine what it just might mean. My mind wondered but all my thoughts seemed to travel to one place-maybe it just was. It was, you see. It just was. I looked at the residue a bit longer before I turned away. That would be my answer-It just was.
part of the residue stayed on her hand. it was invisible but as her passion were detective stories, she knew it. with clean hands no one would ever suspect her for murder.
Residues are normally though of as sticky and bad. However, in Biochemistry and Biology, residues are very impotant as they are amino acids that make up the protiens that casue everything to happen in your body. They are cooll
It’s stuck to my shoes and foolishly filling up my lungs. It needs to be washed away. Is there anything that can cleanse the tar of the past. Is there anyone who can pry the gunk from under my fingernails? Is there enough water in the world?
I don’t like the residue that builds up on my dishes above the stove. How does that even happen? I don’t fry food and yet the dishes are all covered in an oily dust. I wash them, replace them, and within a month, they are all the same. Perhaps I should get rid of them since obviously I’m not using them anyway.
As she sat at the table the spot stared back at her. There was still a residue left from the soap making the splotch look like the blood she had mopped up. Her fingers were still raw and aching from scrubbing the dark stain. The residue of the life she had only a few hours ago.
Residue? I believe is a small amount of somthing…? or some part of another? Though I am unsure of the exact definition I believe it to be something along those line? But I may be wrong it may just be somthing very different… it may be the end of somthing or the essence of it??? or a scraping of it….
The chalk left a harsh green residue on Shelly’s fingers as she scraped at the gray pavement, shoulders stiff and sore as she hunched over her work. To her right, street artists had all gathered to make their creations, their borders clearly drawn in stark, hostile white. Lifting her head for a split second, Shelly spotted Jerry drawing the remains of a horseman of death with red and gold.
My heart beats like a withering plant. The residue of melancholy seeps off of the edges and drips onto myself. I live like a slug, but better yet the slugs are better than me. The slugs know where they go, yet my own path is unrevealed and hidden.
the leftover crap on anything. Can be used meteorically to describe people that don’t belong. A negative connotation. Can be like rust or gunk. I think of nasty we hair at water parks. It makes me want to puke. The scraps from your body
the past lays like a residue on my soul. it films me up and clouds my vision. the things i think i see aren’t in focus because this haze razes my judgement.
i need the windex. awareness, liquid blue. that is the only thing that will do.
Residue is the reminder of the past, the things that leave behind their mark. It is the smudge of ketchup on the counter from your sandwich, the bit of semen on the sheets, the dust on your finger after wiping down the countertops. Residue is the residual. The leftovers.
It was barely noticeable on my fingertips, that soft oiliness left over from a gently touched plant or a swipe across the lips. A residue I could barely detect but knew was there, reminding me of what had happened, what was to come and how little time there really was left for me.
dirt
gross
r
due
due to clean
needs cleaning
face
clearsil
face wash
cleaning
house cleaning
trying to clean something from a table
dirty
impossible
hard to take off
kitchen
faces
people
human
the residue left from my past keeps sticking to everything i touch. I rinse and rinse but it always stays. I keep searching for something to wash it off but i cant find it. Residue is something we need to try to rid ourselves of.
There you were captured so elegantly on my bed. It isn’t you, but your formation–actually your residue. It was what you were. Your smell is still laying on my bed, your strength and your love. Though you aren’t here, but residing in the grave everything that you were is laying beautiful forever on my bed.
you leave a residue on me
that is sometimes hard to see
but even worse it is to feel it
the grainy softness of it
rolling in between my fingers
the space between my hipbone and
the elastic of my jeans
the residue snakes under my toenails
and i pick at it ferociously
flicking you farther and farther
away
The acidic residue clung to the interior of the driver side window. A haze filled the car as silence once again permeated that retched space. He finally spoke, “Shouldn’t have fucked around with my wife”.
water droplets on a window, drinking from a bottle leaving bits behind, after towelling off, after sex, mark from years ago you forgot about, mug of tea leaving a ring on the table, spilling milk, sticky patch left over
residue is left on my shirt, my car, my table, and many other places. residue is the left-overs of the things we use every day. many advertise “no residue”, but how do you know? how do you really know? can you see it? can you touch it? i believe it’s a trick. they want us to trick our minds into believing it.
the suff on the bathroom walls after a fight. you clean it with bleach and apologies, youmust be vigelent or it will pop up when you really don’t need it
The residue…the remnants.
What’s left behind. The last sprinklings of memory haunt me. They haunt me, they haunt me. I cannot clean it up. The wind will not carry it away.
They haunt me.
I took my eyes away from the road for a split second. The next thing I remember is the dark red residue of the child’s blood on her lips. If only I could go back now, I would never take my eyes off the road.
Residue. The dew on a flower petal, on the green spring grass. The drips from a freshly painted wall. The glistening leftovers of what is beautiful, the peaceful aftermath in the quiet after-minutes of art, of rain, of sex.
i don’t know what this word is. it sounds kind of like another word for dirty. i feel dumb for not knowing what it means because i have heard this word before, but i can’t think of where!
i lightly brushed the tear away, leaving a residue of ash smeared over her cheek. It looked so out of place there, that streak of black jarring against her cold, pale skin; a jagged scream of emptiness dug lightly into the snow.
The residue left at the bottom of the glass is 80% backwash or something. At least that’s what a friend used to say. I believe her. And just like that, we got in the habit of not drinking/finishing off other people’s drinks. Well, except for each others. I miss her.
I was walking in the forest when I came upon a rather odd sort of residue. Weather it was left there or just sort of appeared, I had no knowledge. I stared at the odd residue for a few minutes before I started to determine what it just might mean. My mind wondered but all my thoughts seemed to travel to one place-maybe it just was. It was, you see. It just was. I looked at the residue a bit longer before I turned away. That would be my answer-It just was.
Residue is something left after a part is removed.
slimy ants running around not dying. soap scum dripping down the shower.
residue, that gum on my shoe is stopping me from catching you!. just wait, i’m coming hombre!
Desperate times call for desperate measures. Tastes like tar, looks like tar, …is tar, but it still gets the job done. Time to float.
What will the world do
When there’s no longer any residue
To cleanse ourselves of our own demise
In a desperate clutch at that final prize
part of the residue stayed on her hand. it was invisible but as her passion were detective stories, she knew it. with clean hands no one would ever suspect her for murder.
Residues are normally though of as sticky and bad. However, in Biochemistry and Biology, residues are very impotant as they are amino acids that make up the protiens that casue everything to happen in your body. They are cooll
It’s stuck to my shoes and foolishly filling up my lungs. It needs to be washed away. Is there anything that can cleanse the tar of the past. Is there anyone who can pry the gunk from under my fingernails? Is there enough water in the world?
I don’t like the residue that builds up on my dishes above the stove. How does that even happen? I don’t fry food and yet the dishes are all covered in an oily dust. I wash them, replace them, and within a month, they are all the same. Perhaps I should get rid of them since obviously I’m not using them anyway.
i can’t see it
only feel it
it’s what you left behind
on the outer reaches of my heart
scrub as i may
it won’t go away
what have you done
you’re here to stay
neither a blessing or a curse
nothing could be better
that couldn’t be worse
you are a part of me
The stuff that is left behind of larger parts… it is unwanted and is unnoticed most of the time…
As she sat at the table the spot stared back at her. There was still a residue left from the soap making the splotch look like the blood she had mopped up. Her fingers were still raw and aching from scrubbing the dark stain. The residue of the life she had only a few hours ago.
ilk akla gelen arkeolojik olsada anıların kalıntıları ya da yemek kalıntısıda olabilir bugunku tutmadi pek
the nastiness
the ugly crap
the leftovers
rust
mold
grody
poopy
all nast things
all over everywhere
deadskin
Residue? I believe is a small amount of somthing…? or some part of another? Though I am unsure of the exact definition I believe it to be something along those line? But I may be wrong it may just be somthing very different… it may be the end of somthing or the essence of it??? or a scraping of it….
the gunk left behind
The words forrgotten,
The people who don’t fit in
The nasty stuff
ew
puke
left over
The chalk left a harsh green residue on Shelly’s fingers as she scraped at the gray pavement, shoulders stiff and sore as she hunched over her work. To her right, street artists had all gathered to make their creations, their borders clearly drawn in stark, hostile white. Lifting her head for a split second, Shelly spotted Jerry drawing the remains of a horseman of death with red and gold.
My heart beats like a withering plant. The residue of melancholy seeps off of the edges and drips onto myself. I live like a slug, but better yet the slugs are better than me. The slugs know where they go, yet my own path is unrevealed and hidden.
the leftover crap on anything. Can be used meteorically to describe people that don’t belong. A negative connotation. Can be like rust or gunk. I think of nasty we hair at water parks. It makes me want to puke. The scraps from your body
the past lays like a residue on my soul. it films me up and clouds my vision. the things i think i see aren’t in focus because this haze razes my judgement.
i need the windex. awareness, liquid blue. that is the only thing that will do.
Residue is the reminder of the past, the things that leave behind their mark. It is the smudge of ketchup on the counter from your sandwich, the bit of semen on the sheets, the dust on your finger after wiping down the countertops. Residue is the residual. The leftovers.
It was barely noticeable on my fingertips, that soft oiliness left over from a gently touched plant or a swipe across the lips. A residue I could barely detect but knew was there, reminding me of what had happened, what was to come and how little time there really was left for me.
dirt
gross
r
due
due to clean
needs cleaning
face
clearsil
face wash
cleaning
house cleaning
trying to clean something from a table
dirty
impossible
hard to take off
kitchen
faces
people
human
the residue left from my past keeps sticking to everything i touch. I rinse and rinse but it always stays. I keep searching for something to wash it off but i cant find it. Residue is something we need to try to rid ourselves of.
There you were captured so elegantly on my bed. It isn’t you, but your formation–actually your residue. It was what you were. Your smell is still laying on my bed, your strength and your love. Though you aren’t here, but residing in the grave everything that you were is laying beautiful forever on my bed.
you leave a residue on me
that is sometimes hard to see
but even worse it is to feel it
the grainy softness of it
rolling in between my fingers
the space between my hipbone and
the elastic of my jeans
the residue snakes under my toenails
and i pick at it ferociously
flicking you farther and farther
away
the. end. finish ALREADY!
Dripping on the side of my temple is the residue of of nervous laughter. My mind can’t stop racing when I’m with you.
In the bottom of the bottle some residue, but otherwise a fine wine for a home made elderberry wine
The acidic residue clung to the interior of the driver side window. A haze filled the car as silence once again permeated that retched space. He finally spoke, “Shouldn’t have fucked around with my wife”.
water droplets on a window, drinking from a bottle leaving bits behind, after towelling off, after sex, mark from years ago you forgot about, mug of tea leaving a ring on the table, spilling milk, sticky patch left over
residue is left on my shirt, my car, my table, and many other places. residue is the left-overs of the things we use every day. many advertise “no residue”, but how do you know? how do you really know? can you see it? can you touch it? i believe it’s a trick. they want us to trick our minds into believing it.