Knowing Spike from Degrassi came like a cultural memory. There’s lore, there’s songs written about her, but I’ve never seen her in true form: a teenager, a rebel, a punk. Who is Spike? I know, I don’t know.
there was a spike sticking out of the floor that day. it was really just a little nail. but that was enough to hurt her. hurt her badly. i wasn’t prepared for the loss, but she was gone.
Rennen, immer nur rennen, rennen, ich weiß nicht wohin, der Speichel fließt mein Kinn entlang, rennen, du musst rennen, Baby, sonst wird das nix mit der Rente in 50 Jahren, lauf, Wald, lauf!
Spike was my first dog. I remember the day I found him underneath the Johnson’s front tire. I remember screaming, ruining my sister’s birthday party. She hated me for months. It was pure trauma.
spike is always the stupid name of the stupid dog in stupid children books. I hated those books growing up and because I mastered reading at two years old I ended up burning “See spike run.”
I gasped in shock, more surprised than hurt as it registered. I wasn’t quite sure what had happened, but now, potruding from my heart was a metal sword, it’s sharp spike stuck right though me. All these things went through my head as I fell over, dying.
A spike in curiosity raises me from my stupor. What is this she’s babbling on about? Rights, free speech, a march against oppression? Soon I realise the words were only meant to shock and not to inspire at all, so I let my head once again fall in to the arm of my chair.
It was always there. Like a bent, rusty doornail beckoning an elbow or new blouse to snag. A few summers back, they planted a small cactus in the backyard. And now they were severely regretting it.
he reached through his hair
slicked back with gel
plucking each strand as he went
(spike, spike, spike)
jake, the boy with the hair.
the things that make you fall in love
when you’re a little kid.
volleyball. i’ve never played volleyball but i always wanted to. the back and forth of the ball seems fun and like something i would enjoy but i’ve never been much of a team player.
Spike is what he yelled everytime he stepped onto a game field, even though he had never played football in his life. It was amusing to pretend, sometimes. He’d whisper it to himself, or speak it happily, when no one was around.
spikey hair is cool i guess but i stopped doing it a long time ago, i use to even do the skateboard ramp thing in the front and i just figured that was too trendy, dogs named spike is too trendy, spikes in the street suck, and so to people who nickname them selves spike
the spike though his heart was made of pure ademantium. he couldn’t even move it was so deep through his chest it pinned him to the soft plie wood floor. Mia sat and watched with horror. the spike protruding only 2 inches from his massive bicepts. largo the Lt. was laughing insanely maniacally almost. and then spoke quietly. you see he said. this is why you never questiion y workings. ask me why i have foot long ademantium spikes and you shall receive the anwswer. he laughed again and became quite serious. mia you must never speak of this you understand. he told her in a lulling voice. you know my people can find you if you ever tell the authoriteies what happened to mark. i am the authority now. do oyou understand that. she finally vroke into long breathy sobbs as she realized the prediciment she was in. her heart was already broken. what could an ademantium spike do to a broken heart.
The dog growled at me threateningly. I pulled back, afraid of the damage he could do to my fragile skin. He barked, his body banging against the little white picket fence. Someone’s face appeared in the window. I waved the mail high in the air. She smiled and came right out. “Good boy Spike. Now leaver her alone!” With that, Spike sank onto his haunches and let me proceed with my job.
Spikes adorned the protestors this past weekend like the Swiss Alps of unneeded dissent. Nothing’s going to change if all you do is throw shit through windows. Grow up, idiots.
The spike protruded from his back, sending drops of blood into the air. The old man coughed loudly, falling to his knees as he felt the metal object suck away at his life. His time was near; his death would be at the hands of this… this metal spike.
Spikes. Fußballschuhe mit Spitzen an den Sohlen. Solche kriegen nur die wirklichen Profis. Ich nicht. Ich kriege Selbstgenähtes statt Westklamotten. Posaunenchor statt Musikschule. Und reiten darf ich gar nicht.
He was covered in spikes. I suppose he thought it was cool or something, the hardcore-badboy look. But it really did not suit him. He still had soft auburn hair to which he had done nothing and a similarly soft look in his green eyes.
It drove itself into my heart. We all do it. He does it; she does it. No one is safe from it. If only I could calculate and avoid such sorrow. If only I could be whole on my own.
spike paused at the top of the hill, staring down into the small town below. He brushed white-blonde hair out of his emerald, burning eyes. No matter what happened, no matter what changed…he’d have his revenge.
Spike is the best dog in the world. He was born the day i stepped on a spike and I named him so. The spike i stepped on was sharp and i bled for hours till spike was born. he is a very sharp dog and i love him so, but he doesn’t make me bleed.
It drove into the ground. We would be staying in this harsh landscape for two weeks? No way. I would not be able to stand at least two of them. And if that wasn’t bad enough, we would all be staying in the same tent.
I saw this guy across the room. His hair was spiky. I glanced over and he caught me. I introduced myself and he offered me a sip of his energy drink. He said, “They call me Spike”.
The spike ran straight through the wall. While it didn’t hit me, I could feel it, only millimeters away from my cheek as I pressed my ear against the wall to hear what was going on in the other bedroom…
the law enforcement was trailng behind us, we were at 140 on the dash. maybe the traffic spikes will stop them, they thought. lucky for us, we ride G5’s. faster, faster, we get away with all that was stolen. we’re bonnie & clyde, smooth criminals.
Knowing Spike from Degrassi came like a cultural memory. There’s lore, there’s songs written about her, but I’ve never seen her in true form: a teenager, a rebel, a punk. Who is Spike? I know, I don’t know.
The sky lit up and a meteor shot to earth like a spike of light driving into its heart.
The spike was sticking out at an unearthly angle, the blood dripping back down towards the body, trying to get back in
gerbil(Spike was my gerbils name)
gerbil (spik was his name)
Down came the wrath from what was once know as a more gentle crawler; the spike injecting what would come to be know as the poison that set him free.
spike. spike jonze. the guy who owns me tons of tissues after I watched “Where The Wild Things Are”
buffy? hey das ist gemein, meine serienabstinenz ins wanken zu bringen, wenigstens heute wollte ich durchhalten ;) oh da fällt mir ein…
I just had this word 3 times in a row give me a different one.
there was a spike sticking out of the floor that day. it was really just a little nail. but that was enough to hurt her. hurt her badly. i wasn’t prepared for the loss, but she was gone.
Rennen, immer nur rennen, rennen, ich weiß nicht wohin, der Speichel fließt mein Kinn entlang, rennen, du musst rennen, Baby, sonst wird das nix mit der Rente in 50 Jahren, lauf, Wald, lauf!
Spike was my first dog. I remember the day I found him underneath the Johnson’s front tire. I remember screaming, ruining my sister’s birthday party. She hated me for months. It was pure trauma.
spike is always the stupid name of the stupid dog in stupid children books. I hated those books growing up and because I mastered reading at two years old I ended up burning “See spike run.”
Spike is a character from the Buffy-Universe. He was known as William the Bloody, i guess… He was cool.
I gasped in shock, more surprised than hurt as it registered. I wasn’t quite sure what had happened, but now, potruding from my heart was a metal sword, it’s sharp spike stuck right though me. All these things went through my head as I fell over, dying.
A spike in curiosity raises me from my stupor. What is this she’s babbling on about? Rights, free speech, a march against oppression? Soon I realise the words were only meant to shock and not to inspire at all, so I let my head once again fall in to the arm of my chair.
Spike your life with spite.
It was always there. Like a bent, rusty doornail beckoning an elbow or new blouse to snag. A few summers back, they planted a small cactus in the backyard. And now they were severely regretting it.
he reached through his hair
slicked back with gel
plucking each strand as he went
(spike, spike, spike)
jake, the boy with the hair.
the things that make you fall in love
when you’re a little kid.
volleyball. i’ve never played volleyball but i always wanted to. the back and forth of the ball seems fun and like something i would enjoy but i’ve never been much of a team player.
Spike is what he yelled everytime he stepped onto a game field, even though he had never played football in his life. It was amusing to pretend, sometimes. He’d whisper it to himself, or speak it happily, when no one was around.
never.
not ever.
like.
hike.
bike.
tyke.
but not spike.
you loser.
spikey hair is cool i guess but i stopped doing it a long time ago, i use to even do the skateboard ramp thing in the front and i just figured that was too trendy, dogs named spike is too trendy, spikes in the street suck, and so to people who nickname them selves spike
the spike though his heart was made of pure ademantium. he couldn’t even move it was so deep through his chest it pinned him to the soft plie wood floor. Mia sat and watched with horror. the spike protruding only 2 inches from his massive bicepts. largo the Lt. was laughing insanely maniacally almost. and then spoke quietly. you see he said. this is why you never questiion y workings. ask me why i have foot long ademantium spikes and you shall receive the anwswer. he laughed again and became quite serious. mia you must never speak of this you understand. he told her in a lulling voice. you know my people can find you if you ever tell the authoriteies what happened to mark. i am the authority now. do oyou understand that. she finally vroke into long breathy sobbs as she realized the prediciment she was in. her heart was already broken. what could an ademantium spike do to a broken heart.
a spike on my shoe
just one
just one
what was it for?
why wasn’t there more?
just one
for just what?
The dog growled at me threateningly. I pulled back, afraid of the damage he could do to my fragile skin. He barked, his body banging against the little white picket fence. Someone’s face appeared in the window. I waved the mail high in the air. She smiled and came right out. “Good boy Spike. Now leaver her alone!” With that, Spike sank onto his haunches and let me proceed with my job.
Spikes adorned the protestors this past weekend like the Swiss Alps of unneeded dissent. Nothing’s going to change if all you do is throw shit through windows. Grow up, idiots.
The spike protruded from his back, sending drops of blood into the air. The old man coughed loudly, falling to his knees as he felt the metal object suck away at his life. His time was near; his death would be at the hands of this… this metal spike.
Spikes. Fußballschuhe mit Spitzen an den Sohlen. Solche kriegen nur die wirklichen Profis. Ich nicht. Ich kriege Selbstgenähtes statt Westklamotten. Posaunenchor statt Musikschule. Und reiten darf ich gar nicht.
He was covered in spikes. I suppose he thought it was cool or something, the hardcore-badboy look. But it really did not suit him. He still had soft auburn hair to which he had done nothing and a similarly soft look in his green eyes.
It drove itself into my heart. We all do it. He does it; she does it. No one is safe from it. If only I could calculate and avoid such sorrow. If only I could be whole on my own.
the sand flittered up towards the clouds
in an effort to attain babylon
and the boy sat there and watched
as the waves carried him away.
spike paused at the top of the hill, staring down into the small town below. He brushed white-blonde hair out of his emerald, burning eyes. No matter what happened, no matter what changed…he’d have his revenge.
I thought I had more time to think but all I had was this moment in time when my feelings came to the surface, became clear, and then you were gone.
Spike is the best dog in the world. He was born the day i stepped on a spike and I named him so. The spike i stepped on was sharp and i bled for hours till spike was born. he is a very sharp dog and i love him so, but he doesn’t make me bleed.
It drove into the ground. We would be staying in this harsh landscape for two weeks? No way. I would not be able to stand at least two of them. And if that wasn’t bad enough, we would all be staying in the same tent.
I saw this guy across the room. His hair was spiky. I glanced over and he caught me. I introduced myself and he offered me a sip of his energy drink. He said, “They call me Spike”.
The spike ran straight through the wall. While it didn’t hit me, I could feel it, only millimeters away from my cheek as I pressed my ear against the wall to hear what was going on in the other bedroom…
the little weeeee dog is very slobbery and likes lick
i likey my spikey
rachels lil dawwwggg
fershure yo
the law enforcement was trailng behind us, we were at 140 on the dash. maybe the traffic spikes will stop them, they thought. lucky for us, we ride G5’s. faster, faster, we get away with all that was stolen. we’re bonnie & clyde, smooth criminals.