on a house , keeps me safe, no water drippingg on my head , unless its leaking. such a wierd word when i think about it roof. like the sound a dog makes, kinnda but not really, its more like ruff not roof.. the double oo’s look like eyes.
sitting on your roof, you dropped your phone
it was still in one piece, so we came to the conclusion
that anything that fell off would be ok
we went up there more often after that
She was sitting on the roof, watch the cars speed by on the interstate. She was thinking about all that had happened and wondering about everything that would start happening. She shouldn’t have let Sheiann talk her into sneaking their friend along for the ride. She knew it was bad news…
the roof is leaking again. yixing sighs at the ceiling, closing his manga with a flap.
“luhan!” he calls, frowning. he’d told him to call a repairman, someone, even kris, to help, but luhan doesn’t like to listen. he’d probably say the leaky roof gave the place ‘character.’
I sat on the roof and watch the stars. Summer’s crickets chirped and not a single cloud dusted the sky. In my pocket, my phone buzzed. I took it out and its small illuminated a new text message. I swore to myself.
There was always a crack in that roof. Whenever it would rain, it would leak on me as I sat at the table. My Mom always said someone should fix that hole in the roof, but every since my dad died no one had the heart to do it. he was always the handy man who would fix everything when it was broken.
A roof is like a hat or is it like hair? Covering your head or accentuating it? The shingles are like each strand protecting you from the wind. The roof has no mind beneath it, the hat only hair. The Moral – the hair has the brain beneath it – you hair brain!
Sobre el techo se esconden las nubes que tienen miedo de la luz que emana la lámpara del pequeño Miguel. Los fantasmas creen que ese amarillo es un portal a la no-vida.
The object that holds me down. keeps me from where i want to be. Keeps me below everyone else. It is above me, and i cant reach it. I cant get to that level.
all I see are stars
stars in galaxies far above me
and i feel small
smaller than the tiniest grain of sand on a beach
a white beach where the waves roll and sway
and never crash
but all i see are stars
and i am so small.
I used to climb on the roof as a child and my parents told me not to. I did anyway and thought I could get away with it. One day they saw me from a half a mile away driving home. I never did it again. God see’s everything.
It is freezing out on the rooftops at night, but it is my haven. I can lie for hours looking up at the infinite sky. The stars twinkle benificently down at me and I cannot help but to marvel at how tiny we are in existence. All of our triumphs and despairs are nothing more than a blip in this tiny star system, which really is only a small part of this vast, vast universe. It is humbling. It is humanizing. Some nights I wonder if anyone else stares up at the stars and feels the same way that I do. Other nights, I think of absolutely nothing at all and drift away while the stars continue shining down on me as they always have.
I sat on the roof of my lonely home, looking out at the world. The stars gazed down condescendingly, mocking my insignificance in the universe. I stuck my tongue out, then turned to face the grass. When the infinite number of blades also reminded me of my place, I closed my eyes and leaned back.
It always came back to this. I was always alone.
No one ever cared about my problems.
After all, they were small, unimportant.
I was just another speck in the universe, fated to go unnoticed amongst trillions of others.
I wish the roof was aware of the horrors it was caging. I wish it could know what it’s preventing the rest of the world from seeing. I wish the roof could cave in. I wish the caved-in roof could expose the horrors. I wish the horrors could have escaped into the world, freed from the cage I’m in. Then they would know. Then they would help.
A cat on a hot tin roof burned the pads of his feet. They blend on the roof, and he made sloppy blood spots all over the roof, window sills and everywhere he stepped.
Roofs are the basis of all protection, they keep us safe from the rain, keep us sheltered from the harmful rays of the sun, even keep us safe at night from all of the creature of the night. Roofs are safe.
I felt I could jump and jump, and never stop. The sky seemed endless, as did the energy that was coursing through my veins, my skin, my brain. As my mind touched each rooftop as I leap, it was as though me, my real body, was there along with it.
I sit sometimes, in a space where no one can see me and no one would want to if ever they knew; from my perch there, I can see, I can see, the world is it is to a painter, an alien, an abstract sound wave. People, dots and digits, swerving and linking like a pattern of something that is essentially all alike.
On top of the roof, we watched the sun rise. My eyes blinked in pain from being awake since yesterday’s dawn. But I smiled anyway; I felt his warm hand touch my cold one, and breaking my gaze from the horizon, I stared into his bright blue eyes. He tiredly smiled back, and I said all I could say after learning to feel again.
superhydrophobic project
science fair
isef
accomplishment
water droplets
glad to have a roof over my head
fortunate
snow
collapse
stuff that covers me
i dont know what else to say
i think thats it
You are my roof, love.
You keep me from troubles,
as small as rain
or strong like lightning,
and when I put flame to you,
you stay a skeleton of what I have done
you leave
but scar the earth were we
stand.
Smoke strangles my
breathing.
And all I can think about.
Is your open doors
and the way you
left
the blinds open
for me to look in.
But I locked all my
doors.
and shut the curtains.
You could never really love me
because I didn’t let you
know me.
You are my roof, love.
I sat on the roof, chin tucked into my knees. You laid a hand on my back, and pointed to the stars, then you smiled that warm grin. As I looked harder at you, you went up into the clouds, into the night. Dissipated. You used to say “When you pass, you lead the way for who you left behind.” and I raised my head to the sky, staring at you, or the being of you as that star. Then I smiled for the first time in a long time.
it covers the real world and keeps me in my safety zone. Without it destruction would literally rain chaos on the lives we have today. It is such a neccesary thing that we need.
have you ever stood on the roof of a parking garage and looked down and imagined what it would be like to fall…. Not to die but to fall. what a beautiful feeling it must be that falling though I’m sure few can tell you but i want to feel that. I know that’s morbid maybe even suicidal but i want to fall!
the cat was on the roof, he wasn’t fond of this roof, so he decided to jump off the roof into the pool, were he died. not so happy but that’s ok, life isn’t happy, we all must accept that, move on, and have the best life possible, because one day, you will be a cat on a roof, and will jump.
On the roof. That’s where they heard it. The careful pattering of many hooves. An then. The soft thump of something heavy landing on the softest layer of snow. “It’s him”, they whispered, “it’s santa!”
China looked up at the mansion curiously.
He was dragged here by an exuberant America and wanted to go home. The only reason he went was in case Japan also came by.
China looked at the mansion.
He only came here because the stupid American dragged him over, right when he was talking to Japan, too! He frowned and looked around the grounds. It was very desolate, it was really creepy!
China gave the mansion a cursory glance. The place was old and gross! The only reason he came here was to find Japan. He looked over his shoulder with a frown. Italy was fidgeting, clinging desperately to Germany.
China sigh. ‘How annoying, aru.’
China looked up at the mansion…
A small figure perched herself on the roof, hidden from people on the ground.
She let out a small giggle, her eyes glowing a deep red.
“Let’s see how you do this time! Then we can play again and again and again!”
A twisted smirk pulled her lips as they all entered the mansion.
“Again!”
i think of santa claus and how the song says he goes from roof to roof top and i also think of mary poppins and the chimney sweep guy. I always wished i could be like the children in there because it looked like they were having so much fun back in the”olden days”
Up on the rooftop, she dreamt of escaped realities, of those wishes she could never fulfill. It was only up there that she felt truly alone, safe to think, feel, and wonder about what could’ve been.
Up on the rooftop, she dreamt of escaped realities, of those wishes she could never fulfill. It was only up there that she felt truly alone, safe to think, feel, and wonder about what could’ve been.
I was sitting on the roof, gazing up at the stars wondering how much longer we would be around. You say apocalypse I say awakening. Either way things are going to change whether we like it or not. I choose to awake, to like it , to embrace it , to love every moment like no other.
I’m at the top, way high above everything else. Everything looks so small and inferior. It’s frightening how high up I am. On a roof with no exit. A place for my final life to live. Lonely exiled, away from the rest of the world.
a roof protects a family and their house. It protects you from a storm where the rain pours down like it’s a shower. A cold, windy shower. The roof can else be on a hut in the middle f a beach in aruba and protect you from the sun’s harmful rays.
no one ever looks at the roof, you forget it’s there til something goes wrong, but it is really important because it keeps you dry and it keeps you warm.
I was sitting on the roof, gazing up at the stars wondering how much longer we would be around. You say apocalypse I say awakening. Either way things are going to change whether we like it or not. I choose to awaken, to like it , to embrace it , to love every moment like no other.
I am lying in bed staring at the ceiling. It is fall, or late summer, and we are at your grandmother’s house in Red Deer, Alberta. Your father’s childhood room is in the attic, and that’s where we sleep. Your grandmother lets us sleep in the same bed. Your parents, my parents, wouldn’t even let us sleep alone in their own houses. Not once they found out.
“Where is the roof my dear? The mansard roof?” Her question was still echoing in my ear, because I knew it was too late. She did it. The wind floated her away and as soon as I was about to stop it from taking her, she was gone. That roof, it’s no good. It must be fixed…it must be fixed…no…please…fix it…
on a house , keeps me safe, no water drippingg on my head , unless its leaking. such a wierd word when i think about it roof. like the sound a dog makes, kinnda but not really, its more like ruff not roof.. the double oo’s look like eyes.
sitting on your roof, you dropped your phone
it was still in one piece, so we came to the conclusion
that anything that fell off would be ok
we went up there more often after that
She was sitting on the roof, watch the cars speed by on the interstate. She was thinking about all that had happened and wondering about everything that would start happening. She shouldn’t have let Sheiann talk her into sneaking their friend along for the ride. She knew it was bad news…
the roof is leaking again. yixing sighs at the ceiling, closing his manga with a flap.
“luhan!” he calls, frowning. he’d told him to call a repairman, someone, even kris, to help, but luhan doesn’t like to listen. he’d probably say the leaky roof gave the place ‘character.’
I sat on the roof and watch the stars. Summer’s crickets chirped and not a single cloud dusted the sky. In my pocket, my phone buzzed. I took it out and its small illuminated a new text message. I swore to myself.
There was always a crack in that roof. Whenever it would rain, it would leak on me as I sat at the table. My Mom always said someone should fix that hole in the roof, but every since my dad died no one had the heart to do it. he was always the handy man who would fix everything when it was broken.
A roof is like a hat or is it like hair? Covering your head or accentuating it? The shingles are like each strand protecting you from the wind. The roof has no mind beneath it, the hat only hair. The Moral – the hair has the brain beneath it – you hair brain!
Sobre el techo se esconden las nubes que tienen miedo de la luz que emana la lámpara del pequeño Miguel. Los fantasmas creen que ese amarillo es un portal a la no-vida.
The object that holds me down. keeps me from where i want to be. Keeps me below everyone else. It is above me, and i cant reach it. I cant get to that level.
That’s really what she said, that someone was up there, living under the roof.
It was delusional, of course. I mean, no one could live in that attic, under the roof, freezing cold in the winter and unbearably hot in the summer.
She heard the voices, though, heard them talking, and what they had to say wasn’t good.
all I see are stars
stars in galaxies far above me
and i feel small
smaller than the tiniest grain of sand on a beach
a white beach where the waves roll and sway
and never crash
but all i see are stars
and i am so small.
I used to climb on the roof as a child and my parents told me not to. I did anyway and thought I could get away with it. One day they saw me from a half a mile away driving home. I never did it again. God see’s everything.
It is freezing out on the rooftops at night, but it is my haven. I can lie for hours looking up at the infinite sky. The stars twinkle benificently down at me and I cannot help but to marvel at how tiny we are in existence. All of our triumphs and despairs are nothing more than a blip in this tiny star system, which really is only a small part of this vast, vast universe. It is humbling. It is humanizing. Some nights I wonder if anyone else stares up at the stars and feels the same way that I do. Other nights, I think of absolutely nothing at all and drift away while the stars continue shining down on me as they always have.
The very thing that protects the ones we love and care about from storms and horrible weather. Something that reminds us we are all together and safe.
I sat on the roof of my lonely home, looking out at the world. The stars gazed down condescendingly, mocking my insignificance in the universe. I stuck my tongue out, then turned to face the grass. When the infinite number of blades also reminded me of my place, I closed my eyes and leaned back.
It always came back to this. I was always alone.
No one ever cared about my problems.
After all, they were small, unimportant.
I was just another speck in the universe, fated to go unnoticed amongst trillions of others.
I wish the roof was aware of the horrors it was caging. I wish it could know what it’s preventing the rest of the world from seeing. I wish the roof could cave in. I wish the caved-in roof could expose the horrors. I wish the horrors could have escaped into the world, freed from the cage I’m in. Then they would know. Then they would help.
A cat on a hot tin roof burned the pads of his feet. They blend on the roof, and he made sloppy blood spots all over the roof, window sills and everywhere he stepped.
The roof was tin, like what is normally found on an old barn. The cat strolled along the apex, toward the end of the house, then sat in the sun.
Roofs are the basis of all protection, they keep us safe from the rain, keep us sheltered from the harmful rays of the sun, even keep us safe at night from all of the creature of the night. Roofs are safe.
I felt I could jump and jump, and never stop. The sky seemed endless, as did the energy that was coursing through my veins, my skin, my brain. As my mind touched each rooftop as I leap, it was as though me, my real body, was there along with it.
I sit sometimes, in a space where no one can see me and no one would want to if ever they knew; from my perch there, I can see, I can see, the world is it is to a painter, an alien, an abstract sound wave. People, dots and digits, swerving and linking like a pattern of something that is essentially all alike.
On top of the roof, we watched the sun rise. My eyes blinked in pain from being awake since yesterday’s dawn. But I smiled anyway; I felt his warm hand touch my cold one, and breaking my gaze from the horizon, I stared into his bright blue eyes. He tiredly smiled back, and I said all I could say after learning to feel again.
“Hello.”
superhydrophobic project
science fair
isef
accomplishment
water droplets
glad to have a roof over my head
fortunate
snow
collapse
stuff that covers me
i dont know what else to say
i think thats it
You are my roof, love.
You keep me from troubles,
as small as rain
or strong like lightning,
and when I put flame to you,
you stay a skeleton of what I have done
you leave
but scar the earth were we
stand.
Smoke strangles my
breathing.
And all I can think about.
Is your open doors
and the way you
left
the blinds open
for me to look in.
But I locked all my
doors.
and shut the curtains.
You could never really love me
because I didn’t let you
know me.
You are my roof, love.
I sat on the roof, chin tucked into my knees. You laid a hand on my back, and pointed to the stars, then you smiled that warm grin. As I looked harder at you, you went up into the clouds, into the night. Dissipated. You used to say “When you pass, you lead the way for who you left behind.” and I raised my head to the sky, staring at you, or the being of you as that star. Then I smiled for the first time in a long time.
it covers the real world and keeps me in my safety zone. Without it destruction would literally rain chaos on the lives we have today. It is such a neccesary thing that we need.
have you ever stood on the roof of a parking garage and looked down and imagined what it would be like to fall…. Not to die but to fall. what a beautiful feeling it must be that falling though I’m sure few can tell you but i want to feel that. I know that’s morbid maybe even suicidal but i want to fall!
the cat was on the roof, he wasn’t fond of this roof, so he decided to jump off the roof into the pool, were he died. not so happy but that’s ok, life isn’t happy, we all must accept that, move on, and have the best life possible, because one day, you will be a cat on a roof, and will jump.
On the roof. That’s where they heard it. The careful pattering of many hooves. An then. The soft thump of something heavy landing on the softest layer of snow. “It’s him”, they whispered, “it’s santa!”
China looked up at the mansion curiously.
He was dragged here by an exuberant America and wanted to go home. The only reason he went was in case Japan also came by.
China looked at the mansion.
He only came here because the stupid American dragged him over, right when he was talking to Japan, too! He frowned and looked around the grounds. It was very desolate, it was really creepy!
China gave the mansion a cursory glance. The place was old and gross! The only reason he came here was to find Japan. He looked over his shoulder with a frown. Italy was fidgeting, clinging desperately to Germany.
China sigh. ‘How annoying, aru.’
China looked up at the mansion…
A small figure perched herself on the roof, hidden from people on the ground.
She let out a small giggle, her eyes glowing a deep red.
“Let’s see how you do this time! Then we can play again and again and again!”
A twisted smirk pulled her lips as they all entered the mansion.
“Again!”
i think of santa claus and how the song says he goes from roof to roof top and i also think of mary poppins and the chimney sweep guy. I always wished i could be like the children in there because it looked like they were having so much fun back in the”olden days”
Up on the rooftop, she dreamt of escaped realities, of those wishes she could never fulfill. It was only up there that she felt truly alone, safe to think, feel, and wonder about what could’ve been.
Up on the rooftop, she dreamt of escaped realities, of those wishes she could never fulfill. It was only up there that she felt truly alone, safe to think, feel, and wonder about what could’ve been.
I was sitting on the roof, gazing up at the stars wondering how much longer we would be around. You say apocalypse I say awakening. Either way things are going to change whether we like it or not. I choose to awake, to like it , to embrace it , to love every moment like no other.
I’m at the top, way high above everything else. Everything looks so small and inferior. It’s frightening how high up I am. On a roof with no exit. A place for my final life to live. Lonely exiled, away from the rest of the world.
a roof protects a family and their house. It protects you from a storm where the rain pours down like it’s a shower. A cold, windy shower. The roof can else be on a hut in the middle f a beach in aruba and protect you from the sun’s harmful rays.
no one ever looks at the roof, you forget it’s there til something goes wrong, but it is really important because it keeps you dry and it keeps you warm.
I was sitting on the roof, gazing up at the stars wondering how much longer we would be around. You say apocalypse I say awakening. Either way things are going to change whether we like it or not. I choose to awaken, to like it , to embrace it , to love every moment like no other.
I am lying in bed staring at the ceiling. It is fall, or late summer, and we are at your grandmother’s house in Red Deer, Alberta. Your father’s childhood room is in the attic, and that’s where we sleep. Your grandmother lets us sleep in the same bed. Your parents, my parents, wouldn’t even let us sleep alone in their own houses. Not once they found out.
“Where is the roof my dear? The mansard roof?” Her question was still echoing in my ear, because I knew it was too late. She did it. The wind floated her away and as soon as I was about to stop it from taking her, she was gone. That roof, it’s no good. It must be fixed…it must be fixed…no…please…fix it…