Sheets of paper are open places for you write. Whatever you like. IT doesn’t matter. You can think on paper, write your opinions, anything. It’s your sheet. You can do ANYTHING. no one can tell you what to write. It’s new and crisp and clean. Just for you. Write for yourself. You can do anything.
There comes a time when the power of patterns can overwhelm our minds. That is why we have blank sheets to calm the animal soul of our subconscious. The fragrance it exhumes is sensational beyond our imagination.
I bleed on my sheets this morning because i am in denial that i menstrate. menstruation disgusts me and my sheets now are gross. at least i smelled like enough pheromones last week to make him hold me. pheromones are worth it if it makes him want me.
They are crisp, white, clean. I want silk ones. Ours are dirty at the moment, and have lint balls attached to them. My brother has leopard print sheets, I think they are a bit stupid. This reminds me of sheets hanging on a clothes line, over a bright green lawn.. I don’t know why.
O man could I write all day about sheets. Right now in my dorm room I have these super comfortable sheets from Target that are plum purple with pink and orange stripes on them. I also have gray, purple and pink. I’m pretty much obsessed with sleeping so good clean perfect comfy sheets are always a must for that perfect night or days sleep :)
sheets are like days of our life they change one after another but the very next day they are the same format again and again, just the letters are combined in different ways
They are the things you put on beds. They keep you warm at night and you can cuddle with them. You can also have sheets of paper. They’re the best to write on. You can scribble on them and draw or write. Sheets are amazing! Wow, what other kinds of sheets exist?
They told me that once I was between the sheets with him, I’d forget about everything else. But that’s not true. It’s mostly because we weren’t actually between the sheets – we were on top of them and he had a hand over my mouth trying to tell me to be quiet so my little sister wouldn’t hear us, as he started to move, and he pressed a kiss to my mouth. He smiled at me. It’s always that they think things will happen. And I didn’t forget about anything – I remembered that my sister was there; she reminded us by knocking on the door.
I slowly took the sheets off of my body and sat up. I saw a bright, white light. Where was I? Someone gently pushed me back down on the bed. I felt throbbing pain in my left shoulder. My skin burned everywhere. I heard a woman crying- was that my mom? My arm started aching and stinging. I groaned. My mind couldn’t process anything. What was going on?
smooth silk. the place i want you. in between them. sunday was fantastic but terrifying. i want it again. i want you but you loved her…loved her in between those sheets. well not those ones i think… youve only loved me between them. can i deal with that? is this real?
there were blank sheets all over the desk, making their own sort of table cloth. covering every square inch. he sat and laid both hands down flat and waited. he could feel their presence soon, they would arrive soon. all he had to do was wait.
Sheets are what make a stressful day seem ok. That dive we all do into our beds, the morning feeling when we don’t want to leave the sheets and blankets that have cradled us and kept our warmth. Sheets of paper? Bland, boring, cold…Sheets of cotton or silk or whatever? HEAVENLY
What? Sheets? Sheets of paper. Don’t have nearly enough of that. Love my flannel sheets – couldn’t live without them right now. It’s too stinking cold.
My eleven year old is still attached to his penguin sheets that are soft jersey knit, even if he is a big ol’ middle school kid, and I’m thankful for that.
I like good, somewhat starchy, cool ones. If I can’t find a cool place for my feet, I feel like I’m on fire. I wish they would launder themselves. And I wish I could fold a fitted one. I like them black.
Under the sheets there was a woman. She didn’t even know what she was doing there, but sometimes one finds oneself in a situation one didn’t see coming. The problem is, given that eventuality, how to get out of it. And the woman under the sheets knew she had to get out of there.
Her skin fold and creases, tells stories with dust, with the damp smell of old. She is the parchment maker, her life and winkles are made of coffee stain sheets, of treasure maps and musical diagrams. I lean forward to listen to her breath. Her words are the sound of turning pages in the dark.
hanging sheets on the clothes line brings back those smells of fresh and clean linens—-they were a bit rough, but smelled wonderful no matter—–love that time it was a warm memory for me
Sheets are so nice when they are washed and come out of the dryer. I love sleeping on them at night when they are warm. It’s a comforting feeling. I’m not sure why, but maybe the warmth helps me get to sleep faster. I may not have that every night, but it’s definitely a comfort that i treasure.
SHEETS. sheets of paper, bed sheets, rolled sheets of steel. you can use sheets to cover up, manufacture or even play like superman. warm sheets are good in winter, cool sheets are comforting in summer or in the middle of the night. even been three sheets to the wind. to my shame.
I LOVE clean sheets! Every two days they are changed and that becomes “Yahoo, clean sheet day!”. Either cool, crisp summer sheets or warm, fuzzy flannels depending on the weather. Clean sheets make for the best night sleep.
Sheets are things that go on beds or they can also be sheets of paper or something else. There are different types of sheets for different types of things.
Having lots of company over to your house means always having to wash the bed sheets. I hate it, especially since my sump pump is overflowing from the river flood, and I can’t wash any laundry.
the smell of lilac wafted off the sheets when I flung them in the breeze and over the taut clothes line. The sun beating down on my head, part of the sheets were already drying. Crisp.
I never wanted to see those sheets again. When I woke up in them, I kicked them away like a deadly creature. Those sheets were evidence of our failed love.
sheets of paper like sheets of metal can be molded into works of art. the words written on the sheets can tell stories beyond anything the mouth can describe. they tell of love, pain, happiness, sorrow and everything in between
The sheets are clean, the sheets are dirty. Sex between the sheets. Sound asleep under the sheets. Dreaming of clean sheets. 120 thread count cotton sheets. White sheets, colored sheets, paisley sheets. Not for the KKK .. Red sheets, green sheets, blue sheets, pink sheets. New sheets old sheets. Holy sheets. Laundered sheets, So many sheets I want to scream. GHOSTS in the SHEETS!
Sheets of paper are open places for you write. Whatever you like. IT doesn’t matter. You can think on paper, write your opinions, anything. It’s your sheet. You can do ANYTHING. no one can tell you what to write. It’s new and crisp and clean. Just for you. Write for yourself. You can do anything.
There comes a time when the power of patterns can overwhelm our minds. That is why we have blank sheets to calm the animal soul of our subconscious. The fragrance it exhumes is sensational beyond our imagination.
I bleed on my sheets this morning because i am in denial that i menstrate. menstruation disgusts me and my sheets now are gross. at least i smelled like enough pheromones last week to make him hold me. pheromones are worth it if it makes him want me.
They are crisp, white, clean. I want silk ones. Ours are dirty at the moment, and have lint balls attached to them. My brother has leopard print sheets, I think they are a bit stupid. This reminds me of sheets hanging on a clothes line, over a bright green lawn.. I don’t know why.
O man could I write all day about sheets. Right now in my dorm room I have these super comfortable sheets from Target that are plum purple with pink and orange stripes on them. I also have gray, purple and pink. I’m pretty much obsessed with sleeping so good clean perfect comfy sheets are always a must for that perfect night or days sleep :)
sheets are like days of our life they change one after another but the very next day they are the same format again and again, just the letters are combined in different ways
Of paper
of snow
of ice
of william
clouds
of bed
of rain
For stifling screams and things that should not be seen.
Sheets meets streets on feet with a parakeet. Sheets elite for dancing to the beat.
They are the things you put on beds. They keep you warm at night and you can cuddle with them. You can also have sheets of paper. They’re the best to write on. You can scribble on them and draw or write. Sheets are amazing! Wow, what other kinds of sheets exist?
They told me that once I was between the sheets with him, I’d forget about everything else. But that’s not true. It’s mostly because we weren’t actually between the sheets – we were on top of them and he had a hand over my mouth trying to tell me to be quiet so my little sister wouldn’t hear us, as he started to move, and he pressed a kiss to my mouth. He smiled at me. It’s always that they think things will happen. And I didn’t forget about anything – I remembered that my sister was there; she reminded us by knocking on the door.
“So what are you then?” I asked him. “A ghost?”
He chuckled and held out his arms. “No sheets. No, I am not a ghost. I was never alive, so I have never died. I told you what I am.”
“You said my spirit guide… my higher self. Which is it?”
“My dear child… why do you assume that they are mutually exclusive?”
I slowly took the sheets off of my body and sat up. I saw a bright, white light. Where was I? Someone gently pushed me back down on the bed. I felt throbbing pain in my left shoulder. My skin burned everywhere. I heard a woman crying- was that my mom? My arm started aching and stinging. I groaned. My mind couldn’t process anything. What was going on?
smooth silk. the place i want you. in between them. sunday was fantastic but terrifying. i want it again. i want you but you loved her…loved her in between those sheets. well not those ones i think… youve only loved me between them. can i deal with that? is this real?
I use many many sheets for my writing.Well I used to until I got a computer.I also use bedsheets on my bed but thats an afterthought.
red satin sheets sit looking wrinkled.. who knows what just happened, but whatever did, no one’s there to make that bed.
there were blank sheets all over the desk, making their own sort of table cloth. covering every square inch. he sat and laid both hands down flat and waited. he could feel their presence soon, they would arrive soon. all he had to do was wait.
living life in between the sheets. intimate. loving. caring. warmth. her. she is all mine. only mine. i would do anything to stay here forever.
Sheets are what make a stressful day seem ok. That dive we all do into our beds, the morning feeling when we don’t want to leave the sheets and blankets that have cradled us and kept our warmth. Sheets of paper? Bland, boring, cold…Sheets of cotton or silk or whatever? HEAVENLY
What? Sheets? Sheets of paper. Don’t have nearly enough of that. Love my flannel sheets – couldn’t live without them right now. It’s too stinking cold.
My eleven year old is still attached to his penguin sheets that are soft jersey knit, even if he is a big ol’ middle school kid, and I’m thankful for that.
the shees were warm when we shared them. now when i crawl into bed they are cold. i cant stand it. why arent you here? im so cold at night. so cold.
I like good, somewhat starchy, cool ones. If I can’t find a cool place for my feet, I feel like I’m on fire. I wish they would launder themselves. And I wish I could fold a fitted one. I like them black.
Under the sheets there was a woman. She didn’t even know what she was doing there, but sometimes one finds oneself in a situation one didn’t see coming. The problem is, given that eventuality, how to get out of it. And the woman under the sheets knew she had to get out of there.
The sheets were damp with sweat, a product left in the wake of a nightmare so horrible that it could not be explained in simple words.
Her skin fold and creases, tells stories with dust, with the damp smell of old. She is the parchment maker, her life and winkles are made of coffee stain sheets, of treasure maps and musical diagrams. I lean forward to listen to her breath. Her words are the sound of turning pages in the dark.
I used to think nothing felt better than clean sheets that my Mother took down off the clothes line, until I slept on 2000ct sheets, . . .Ahh.
hanging sheets on the clothes line brings back those smells of fresh and clean linens—-they were a bit rough, but smelled wonderful no matter—–love that time it was a warm memory for me
its made of woods and you
bloodstains all over my sheets. fuck. well, at least i’m not pregnant. being pregnant would suck ass. new sheets, too.
Sheets are so nice when they are washed and come out of the dryer. I love sleeping on them at night when they are warm. It’s a comforting feeling. I’m not sure why, but maybe the warmth helps me get to sleep faster. I may not have that every night, but it’s definitely a comfort that i treasure.
SHEETS. sheets of paper, bed sheets, rolled sheets of steel. you can use sheets to cover up, manufacture or even play like superman. warm sheets are good in winter, cool sheets are comforting in summer or in the middle of the night. even been three sheets to the wind. to my shame.
As she fell asleep
the silken sheets
covered
this
dying
soul
comfort, is that what she felt?
I don’t think that
is
right
But the night was ending
as she fell asleep
I already wrote about sheets in the last post, so I not going to do it again. Blah.
I LOVE clean sheets! Every two days they are changed and that becomes “Yahoo, clean sheet day!”. Either cool, crisp summer sheets or warm, fuzzy flannels depending on the weather. Clean sheets make for the best night sleep.
Sheets are things that go on beds or they can also be sheets of paper or something else. There are different types of sheets for different types of things.
Having lots of company over to your house means always having to wash the bed sheets. I hate it, especially since my sump pump is overflowing from the river flood, and I can’t wash any laundry.
the smell of lilac wafted off the sheets when I flung them in the breeze and over the taut clothes line. The sun beating down on my head, part of the sheets were already drying. Crisp.
I never wanted to see those sheets again. When I woke up in them, I kicked them away like a deadly creature. Those sheets were evidence of our failed love.
sheets of paper like sheets of metal can be molded into works of art. the words written on the sheets can tell stories beyond anything the mouth can describe. they tell of love, pain, happiness, sorrow and everything in between
The sheets are clean, the sheets are dirty. Sex between the sheets. Sound asleep under the sheets. Dreaming of clean sheets. 120 thread count cotton sheets. White sheets, colored sheets, paisley sheets. Not for the KKK .. Red sheets, green sheets, blue sheets, pink sheets. New sheets old sheets. Holy sheets. Laundered sheets, So many sheets I want to scream. GHOSTS in the SHEETS!