DeaTh has no need for a coat because he has no flesh to keep warm, be is just a cold thin and frail thing, until he finds a victim. First he gets into the weather and makes it wretchedly cold, with rain, thunderstorms and lightning to boot. Then he gets into time, changing the clock so he lures his victim outside a dreadful hour. He then locks every door to warmth the victim could find and wears him down, waddling away at his skin till he makes the skeleton we see in every graveyard in the world.
spaces in between links to courage, to holding and understanding, liquid within and liquid without
tell the great wide world to know the time
touch the inner without touching anything
help, oh help one to turn it inside out
4:44
In the closet?
Um, no…old fashioned, much? Downstairs, in the basement.
Thank you.
Hidden. Underneath old curtains and car parts.
Ew. Is it real?
Of course it’s real, it’s very real.
It’s you.
I felt the shivers down my spine as I realized that I did not know what I should know. That there was some higher power at work, far away where my love resides. I felt the passing of the hours, I felt the shadow of my doubt and then the skeleton of sunrise.
Are creepy, and weird. Scary. They make me think of The Wire when lime was used to decompose the bodies quicker. Halloween, I guess, too. Bad homemade costumes.
In the beginning, we are given bones and that is all. An outline of who we are expected to be. Our bones grow, giving little chance for our mind, heart, and soul to catch up. The rich and poor begin the same and they end the same. A skeleton with bruises and memories. Nothing more than a gravestone to speak for.
Skeletons. So creepy and lifeless.Looking at them, it’s as if you are staring into a vast cold world full of nothingness. They mock you with a scary grin.
My skeleton is something I have never seen. I have not seen it because I constantly have a layer of skin covering it. Generally, this is a pretty normal anatomy for a human being. Although I have never seen my skeleton, I know it is rather important for my continued existence. Without it, my body would not be able to hold itself up. My muscles would have nothing to conform to.
There was this odd feeling n my gut, the kind that you got when you knew something just wasn’t right, and when there was a tear in my mattress and i put my hand in and found a bone fragment, a peice of a skeleton, we knew something was terribly wrong, i finished tearing it open and there was more and more bits : how long had i been sleeping on this?
Skeletons are a creepy topic in my opinion. Ever since I saw one in a hour movie as a child I knew I couldn’t stand them. They just look so eerie and I always imagine them all bloody and gutsy and they look as if they should be hanging out in an abandoned warehouse.
I opened up my homepage to check the headlines and I saw your picture. I almost skipped over it, figuring it was just another tale of your fuckt up antics. But one word caught my attention and made me click the link: DEAD. Singer Amy Winehouse Found DEAD In Her London Home.
I am a skeleton. Lost without body and soul. It was given to someone that doesn’t deserve it. But how can you help who you fall for. Especially if they are gay with a women complex. I dont know what to do anymore so I wonder as a lonely skeleton.
Skeletons. The scary halloween prop that strikes fear in small children, and the body left over from ancient times. however, more importantly its what holds us up and keeps us together.
the cursor is a skeleton. waiting for me to type in the first word. skeleton standing sentenel in grey misty dawn. skeletally egging me on to put words to the barebone of my thought. framework
of my imagination. winter with the skeleton trees all frosty
and stark. the shivering pool of my imagination has been arrested a skeletal Mr jack Frost.
In the lift of Lucia Li’s block of flats on Victoria Drive I found the dried body of a seahorse,, the skin shrunk tight to its prehistoric and exquisite skeleton. kept it as a treasure in the ‘curioseum’ I had when I was seven. I think the nearest sea was Brighton …. or Southend maybe, but miles away anyway, but somehow it found its way to me, even in death. That was two of us, withering (to different extents) away from the ocean. I’m OK now, I live three minutes from the sea (by bicycle) and I can see it from where I write. All life came from the sea. It is the repository and Alexandrian library of divine wisdom, It makes dolphins happy, the way they are so very happy, the way we want to be.
The weight has been lifted. She’s nothing but skeleton. She’s finally done it. Yet, she’s no happier today than she was tomorrow. She thought it would be different. That once she reached her goal everything would fall into place and the happiness would return once more.
the skeleton in my closet oh how cliche how scary how true how obvious is it that my past overwhelms my future that moving on is almost impossible knowing what i’ve been through and what i will soon ave to face i haven’t changed much but i know there are some things i must keep hidden there are still some skeletons
There’s a skeleton under my bedroom floor.
I was a curious child and there he was, under the wooden floorboards. He put a finger to his lips and told me to never look under there again.
But it didn’t erase the thought of his very presence.
Sometimes when it’s cold I hear him chattering, or when it’s hot I hear him rustling around from discomfort in that small space. And sometimes I want to set him free but my mother would never condone that living in my room…
Skeletons are creepy. I dont enjoy looking at what we look like inside. I mean Halloween skeletons are not as scary. I wonder if science teachers use real skeletons for class. I wouldn’t donate my body to science, ever.
This is the only time of year that we can see skeleton walking down the street and not think twice about it. Witches get to bring their pots and potions outside and not get burned at the stake. Monsters and demons can wear their true faces, and your children get a sugar high.
My body contains a skeleton, but so does every other body on this planet. So, what really makes us special? They’re all made of the same parts, but depending on the person, they are different sizes. So many bones, so little time.
for some, the skeleton is what defines them. it can be used to identify anything, and that’s how we know what dinosaurs look like right? but i don’t like that. not one bit. if my bones are found 100 years from now, i don’t want them to just fit me together like a jigsaw and tell everyone that i was a teenaged, caucasian girl who lived in the 21st century, died of whatever it may be. if i’m going to go down in history, i don’t want people just gaping at my bones all the time, i want them to know how i was. i won’t let my innards define me. i think i’ll bury myself with a journal.
The bones are white and put together they make this full body of so many bones . Strange how bones are te key to us. Its what keeps us up right and why we arent just a blobe of skin. I love to believethat god made us but with how crazy ad how so magical we are it’s hard not to believe in the power of science and eveloution. As time wonders on and I see things die and grow I believe more and more in science. You tell me how god knew to give us lungs to breath and a Beating heart to live….It’s not possible for how much stuff in the world i really doubt one man could make us. We are the power of magic but sadly like everything else we will die… And become obsolete
it was so weird! i was sitting there, just staring at it, wondering the life it had. what did it do? how did it die? well, not ‘IT’ but the person this skeleton once belonged to. It’s odd. You never think about this until you actually see one.
bones all bones. reminds me of structure. Even a leaf has got a structure. if our writing was more structured, well… we aint ever going to learn structure from these exercises-quite the contrary, i fear. Howanever, maybe summat else. Freewheelin
anorexia is a mental disorder. she was so pretty, some compared her to perfection. but she just wanted to be smaller. to see her bones they all thought were so perfect. she thought they’d see beauty, all the saw was her shrinking into a skeleton. anorexia is a monster, delivering death, silent as can be.
A secret. It’s mine to guard. It’s my past. It shaped who I am now. My closet skeleton is part of me forever. As much as I regret how it got there, I keep it as a reminder of how far I’ve come.
i think about bones when i think about loneliness. a bone is alive, while it’s in me, but when i die i’ll leave it behind to be dry and brittle and cold.
DeaTh has no need for a coat because he has no flesh to keep warm, be is just a cold thin and frail thing, until he finds a victim. First he gets into the weather and makes it wretchedly cold, with rain, thunderstorms and lightning to boot. Then he gets into time, changing the clock so he lures his victim outside a dreadful hour. He then locks every door to warmth the victim could find and wears him down, waddling away at his skin till he makes the skeleton we see in every graveyard in the world.
spaces in between links to courage, to holding and understanding, liquid within and liquid without
tell the great wide world to know the time
touch the inner without touching anything
help, oh help one to turn it inside out
4:44
She told me…she loved the very wiryness of me
In the closet?
Um, no…old fashioned, much? Downstairs, in the basement.
Thank you.
Hidden. Underneath old curtains and car parts.
Ew. Is it real?
Of course it’s real, it’s very real.
It’s you.
I felt the shivers down my spine as I realized that I did not know what I should know. That there was some higher power at work, far away where my love resides. I felt the passing of the hours, I felt the shadow of my doubt and then the skeleton of sunrise.
Are creepy, and weird. Scary. They make me think of The Wire when lime was used to decompose the bodies quicker. Halloween, I guess, too. Bad homemade costumes.
In the beginning, we are given bones and that is all. An outline of who we are expected to be. Our bones grow, giving little chance for our mind, heart, and soul to catch up. The rich and poor begin the same and they end the same. A skeleton with bruises and memories. Nothing more than a gravestone to speak for.
Skeletons. So creepy and lifeless.Looking at them, it’s as if you are staring into a vast cold world full of nothingness. They mock you with a scary grin.
” Have you anything to put some padding on this skeleton” An d’ya ken wot e sed? He said “Oh. I wudden mind being as slim as you”
My skeleton is something I have never seen. I have not seen it because I constantly have a layer of skin covering it. Generally, this is a pretty normal anatomy for a human being. Although I have never seen my skeleton, I know it is rather important for my continued existence. Without it, my body would not be able to hold itself up. My muscles would have nothing to conform to.
wasn’t long before the love and heartiness inside her gave way to the soul of a skeleton.
There was this odd feeling n my gut, the kind that you got when you knew something just wasn’t right, and when there was a tear in my mattress and i put my hand in and found a bone fragment, a peice of a skeleton, we knew something was terribly wrong, i finished tearing it open and there was more and more bits : how long had i been sleeping on this?
A pile of bones
not quite bleached
still with the trappings of sinew and bone
behind the white picket fence
under the fertilized roses and orchids
but not the wildflowers
they don’t belong in the garden
she was a wildflower
too wild for this woman
who stabbed her with a spade
under the roses
her fertilizer is all-natural, she says.
Skeletons are a creepy topic in my opinion. Ever since I saw one in a hour movie as a child I knew I couldn’t stand them. They just look so eerie and I always imagine them all bloody and gutsy and they look as if they should be hanging out in an abandoned warehouse.
Within every flesh-and-blood body is a skeleton waiting to break free. To shake and rattle in the night; chatter until the sun comes up.
I opened up my homepage to check the headlines and I saw your picture. I almost skipped over it, figuring it was just another tale of your fuckt up antics. But one word caught my attention and made me click the link: DEAD. Singer Amy Winehouse Found DEAD In Her London Home.
When you left me it wasnt just hard to get by, you turned me into a skeleton. An outline of what I used to be.
has anyone spotted the two eyes staring out of the word- with the straght line of the l for nose: ele
“You hav a gorgeous skeleton” I said to the glamourous but too skinny movie star- “That’s an unusual compliment” she said
I am a skeleton. Lost without body and soul. It was given to someone that doesn’t deserve it. But how can you help who you fall for. Especially if they are gay with a women complex. I dont know what to do anymore so I wonder as a lonely skeleton.
“you have a beautiful skeleton” I said to the veryfat man “an tis a gret pity we can’t see a deal bit more of it!”
Skeletons. The scary halloween prop that strikes fear in small children, and the body left over from ancient times. however, more importantly its what holds us up and keeps us together.
the cursor is a skeleton. waiting for me to type in the first word. skeleton standing sentenel in grey misty dawn. skeletally egging me on to put words to the barebone of my thought. framework
of my imagination. winter with the skeleton trees all frosty
and stark. the shivering pool of my imagination has been arrested a skeletal Mr jack Frost.
In the lift of Lucia Li’s block of flats on Victoria Drive I found the dried body of a seahorse,, the skin shrunk tight to its prehistoric and exquisite skeleton. kept it as a treasure in the ‘curioseum’ I had when I was seven. I think the nearest sea was Brighton …. or Southend maybe, but miles away anyway, but somehow it found its way to me, even in death. That was two of us, withering (to different extents) away from the ocean. I’m OK now, I live three minutes from the sea (by bicycle) and I can see it from where I write. All life came from the sea. It is the repository and Alexandrian library of divine wisdom, It makes dolphins happy, the way they are so very happy, the way we want to be.
The weight has been lifted. She’s nothing but skeleton. She’s finally done it. Yet, she’s no happier today than she was tomorrow. She thought it would be different. That once she reached her goal everything would fall into place and the happiness would return once more.
She was wrong.
the skeleton in my closet oh how cliche how scary how true how obvious is it that my past overwhelms my future that moving on is almost impossible knowing what i’ve been through and what i will soon ave to face i haven’t changed much but i know there are some things i must keep hidden there are still some skeletons
There was a skeleton key on her necklace that unlocked every door she wanted it to except one. The one she wanted to enter was the door to his heart.
There’s a skeleton under my bedroom floor.
I was a curious child and there he was, under the wooden floorboards. He put a finger to his lips and told me to never look under there again.
But it didn’t erase the thought of his very presence.
Sometimes when it’s cold I hear him chattering, or when it’s hot I hear him rustling around from discomfort in that small space. And sometimes I want to set him free but my mother would never condone that living in my room…
Skeletons are creepy. I dont enjoy looking at what we look like inside. I mean Halloween skeletons are not as scary. I wonder if science teachers use real skeletons for class. I wouldn’t donate my body to science, ever.
This is the only time of year that we can see skeleton walking down the street and not think twice about it. Witches get to bring their pots and potions outside and not get burned at the stake. Monsters and demons can wear their true faces, and your children get a sugar high.
body
lack of skin
bones
halloween
art class
biology
two e’s
no soul
lifeless
grave
funeral
sick
sack of bones
cancer
My body contains a skeleton, but so does every other body on this planet. So, what really makes us special? They’re all made of the same parts, but depending on the person, they are different sizes. So many bones, so little time.
for some, the skeleton is what defines them. it can be used to identify anything, and that’s how we know what dinosaurs look like right? but i don’t like that. not one bit. if my bones are found 100 years from now, i don’t want them to just fit me together like a jigsaw and tell everyone that i was a teenaged, caucasian girl who lived in the 21st century, died of whatever it may be. if i’m going to go down in history, i don’t want people just gaping at my bones all the time, i want them to know how i was. i won’t let my innards define me. i think i’ll bury myself with a journal.
The bones are white and put together they make this full body of so many bones . Strange how bones are te key to us. Its what keeps us up right and why we arent just a blobe of skin. I love to believethat god made us but with how crazy ad how so magical we are it’s hard not to believe in the power of science and eveloution. As time wonders on and I see things die and grow I believe more and more in science. You tell me how god knew to give us lungs to breath and a Beating heart to live….It’s not possible for how much stuff in the world i really doubt one man could make us. We are the power of magic but sadly like everything else we will die… And become obsolete
it was so weird! i was sitting there, just staring at it, wondering the life it had. what did it do? how did it die? well, not ‘IT’ but the person this skeleton once belonged to. It’s odd. You never think about this until you actually see one.
bones all bones. reminds me of structure. Even a leaf has got a structure. if our writing was more structured, well… we aint ever going to learn structure from these exercises-quite the contrary, i fear. Howanever, maybe summat else. Freewheelin
dead
bones
white
hard
break
206
too many
biology
human form
marrow
gelatine
support
anorexia is a mental disorder. she was so pretty, some compared her to perfection. but she just wanted to be smaller. to see her bones they all thought were so perfect. she thought they’d see beauty, all the saw was her shrinking into a skeleton. anorexia is a monster, delivering death, silent as can be.
A secret. It’s mine to guard. It’s my past. It shaped who I am now. My closet skeleton is part of me forever. As much as I regret how it got there, I keep it as a reminder of how far I’ve come.
i think about bones when i think about loneliness. a bone is alive, while it’s in me, but when i die i’ll leave it behind to be dry and brittle and cold.