The spikes on the creature’s spine caught my attention immediately. This new creature was indeed something to behold. Tall and muscular, running on two long hind legs and with a dog like face. Its teeth were tiny and even, but sharp as any razor, ready to tear my arms off. Thankfully it was sedated and I could explore this for at least an hour before it came to its senses. I ran a finger along its spine, feeling the studded spiked grip onto my medical gloves and finally ended at the base of its neck. My eyes caught its own and I smiled benevolently, cupping the creature’s face. It bared its teeth at me as the needle dug into the back of the creature’s neck. Slowly, the size of this creature diminished into something more human. its body withered in pain and the metamorphosis started. For about a good ten minutes, the laboratory was filled with its pained screams until they abruptly stopped. My hands still were pressing onto the now human face of the creature and even if its tiny pointy teeth remained the same, along with the red eyes, the creature now looked like a man. Tall and lankly, just like before, with a beautiful mane of dark brown hair and terrified catlike eyes. ” All better?” I asked, and he just pulled away from me. “Shut up, Keanly.” My partner retorted and accepted the lab coat I had so generously offered to him. ” So this is your big secret? ” I asked, a bit disappointed that there was nothing more juicy than this.
The spikes hit me hard, as I stepped over the sharp, grey points. I almost screamed, it bubbling inside me, but I was too scared to scream. I jumped over the sharp pointy needles and steeped inside the tall building named death.
Around the feet, a littering
Of polyhedral pyramids,
The remnants of a game eroded
By time and fortune;
They were not formed by their
Possessors, but claimed
In ancient times,
Themselves ruins,
Desert, barren, empty,
Haunted by nothing more than
The memories of the spirits
That once roamed their catacombs
In their attempt to reclaim humanity.
Now, only the long repeated
Echoes of their wails
Leave faint traces of existence
Tickling the inner ear
Of those that might heed their wisdom.
Watch your step.
the spikes of my soul, the spikes in my skin. Like a rose I hurt everyone around, I feel worthless and I feel loneliness. It doesn’t matter how much people is around you, they just come and go; just like the rose dies, that’s how everything around me keep on dying.
Annie jumped and dodged and weaved, screaming at the top of her lungs. Professor Sanchez could hear the high-pitched sound bounce off the walls of the old Egyptian tomb. He grabbed her as she jumped on the edge, happy to see her safe.
It wasn’t until the soldiers had lined up did the girl notice the spikes. Why, they are everywhere. On their boots, their plates of armor, and especially their weapons. She didn’t know why they had so many spikes — they were here to help — weren’t they? Oh, yes, the Spiked Men were here to help.
So why was her mother crying?
“Spike your hair,” she said to me.
“I don’t like the style,” I replied. “It makes me seem more terrible than I already am.”
“I’ll break up with you if you don’t.”
“Fine,” I said. “If you want to end our relationship over a haircut, then it shows how shallow you are an I would rather end it now instead of having to go through the rest of the relationship knowing we’re a couple because of my hair.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said. “Can’t you take a joke?”
“No.”
I’m not funny. I’m not even slightly charming. I’m the spikes on your pleather jacket: all show and no poke and barely any show, if we’re being honest here. I’m just a useless piece of shiny jacket-decor that loses its shiny silver coat of paint after a season of wear. Thank god for that. Spikes were.just a stupid fad anyways.
they grow up from the ground from steel that has rooted itself in the earth, for no other reason than to spite those who tread there, and they begin to rise like pointed mountains destined to kill in some beautiful, twisted fate
Tricia look up at the spikes on the top of the fence as the car passed through it. She had felt for the last few days like she was the one in prison. But now they said she was she was free to go. But she didn’t feel free. She wasn’t free to go back to her own life, the one she had a week ago. She had to run, and hide, and worry, for the rest of her life, that they might find her again.
The bracelet wasn’t very feminine — spikes, after all! — but Chana loved it because it had been given to her by Aunt Fury, the infamous punk rocker, who was determined to toughen up her girly-girl niece if it was the last thing she did … which it just about was.
The spikes lining the collar of her leather jacket match perfectly with those in her personality: cold, sharp, and unforgiving. She is a fever, an animal, dangerous and on the prowl. I let myself fall victim, pinned down by the dark spines of her stilettos. My mind blurs as her lips drag along mine and I feel that this is wrong. She is not Mine.
The roses in her ears betray innocence she no longer carries in her thorny heart. My adrenaline spikes as I move toward her, too angry to submit, but too scared to turn my head astray.
you’ve never been terribly fond of birds, but you decide you much prefer them to bird spikes, mounted on top of signs and other places the feathered things might roost. you suppose the spikes do have a metallic beauty to them, but there’s also an element of ugliness in their purpose.
The spiking of the word came out of the grammarians mouth,
misleading me with the prepositions that were the frame of the picture,
the adverbs that were the parts of the painting, fine lines, texture, color,
the conjunctions that pieced and meshed and matched together the lining of colors,
when I walked into another museum of expressions,
I saw that the verbs and adjectives and nouns were the bricks–
the walls, the doors, the rooms of the house in which I walked into the live for this situation of human connection.
do you even believe in yourself? is that at least something you can believe in, atsushi?
no i don’t have to answer you, why should i, you don’t really care.
but i do care. i would hate to know someone hated basketball, especially someone witha s much natural talent as you.
mrsakakbara scoffed. kiyoshi teppei was very hard to understand, and while atsushi murasakibara never took the time to understnad people in the firs tplace, kiyoshi was an entirely different case and story.
The job hunt spiked my enthusiasm into a wall of fury when I searched the web and scoured the boulevard of commercial buildings and whenever I spoke with people they shrugged their shoulders directing me to apply online and did not seemingly offer a care and I could not take it anymore once I failed unfailingly and one day I dispersed harder efforts with the rigor of a math professor teaching a lesson to foreigners to land my success. After the lions had caged themselves in the bell of her mouth, the manager of Vans bowed down to my moving, platinum tongue, where we migrated from her desolate office, where I ambushed her with my gleaming resume and rupturing integrity glossing off my blue and green surfer tie, she eventually yielded responsively to a later interview. I spiked through the treachery of doubts superimposed by high-and-mighty folk who think otherwise of new graduates that poke hard at job boards.
A dark dungeon lay before the man, as he stared through the gaping portal. He had been in dungeons like this before, and knew full well that traps were the most common feature. Spiked pits, swinging blades, and wall darts to name a few, he had become adept at avoiding such hazards while delving into the unknown.
Although I was plunged by the spikes of the harsh mace, my death nevertheless raises suspicion to the task force investigating the premise of murder besides when my soul, invisible to living flesh, knocks over an officers gun when he misses the simplest and most blatant clues to find that god dam idiot’s clumsy messes of blood.
There are spikes on my little one’s cleats, the ones that he is so excited to wear. Just in the last few days has he had a cleat to put on each foot. After excessive persistence, I was inspired to go up to the attic to find the missing cleat that matched that miscellaneous one, so now there is a pair. With one shoe for each foot, he is a joy filled child.
There may have been dull moments in our days here at camp-hellfire, but if we are without hope and love, a resounding failure will blow over us or a clanging bear. I may have the sleight of combat, and know every latent creature; I may have tenacity strong enough to budge Tokyo bridges; but if I have no support, I am thin air. I may have gave out all I earned for my war accomplices, but if I have no faith, I am just a lost soul, spiked by regret.
“if the spikes poke through my skin, i’m neither bound to be joyed nor willing to retaliate”, said the stern old man who barked at the prairie wolf who glared at him with his vicious eyes and dangerously sharp fangs that sparkled like the edge of a Samuri sword.
in the morning he is already awake, as he has been all night. he trails his fingertips along the slope of her neck, fearful of waking her. her jacket slips from the foot of the bed and crumples in a heap to the ground. the nine a.m. sunlight glints against the spikes that stud its denim shoulders.
they were coming from every single spot of her body and she was so afraid, as this had never happened to her before. i could easely see that she was at least as surprised as me, but there was no way of telling wether she was in pain or not
From the purposefully unreadable look in her eyes to the spikes that adorned her armor, everything about her warned you off. She oozed death and danger, excitement and tragedy, and though I was afraid, desperately afraid, I couldn’t stop myself from approaching her.
Driving into the mountain, nailing the turn of the wheel over and over and over again. Pounding the pavement. Laying down tracks across here, over to there, beyond this and that and the other. Driving into the mountain, into the sunset, into the wind and sky and open plains. Driving in the spikes, let’s tie this long road down.
Small, silver spikes dotted the collar of Celeste’s jacket, as she pulled at the fraying threads of her fingerless black gloves. She was nervous – I could tell. From the way she fiddled with loose strings on her clothes to the way she smoothed back her very short hair, she was probably wondering why she was even tolerating being in the same room as I was without cracking. I knew she wanted me, just as badly as I wanted her.
The spikes jetted out of my ice shoes. I was about to embark in an adventure that would possibly risk my life. I opened the door and a gust of wind and cold and snow flew at me. It stun my cheeks and froze the inside of my nose. I would begin.
Dragons have spikes. Dinosaurs have spikes. Fences can have spikes. Heart rates can spike. Bras sometimes have spikes. Some insects have spikes. Bikers have spikes. But girls always have spikes.
She walked along these never ending pathway of spikes
thinking that all she wanted was to disappear into the pin hole that never seemed to come
she kept laboriously walking, her arms melting towards the ground
hoping to escape the to that which she was bound
Sharp steel threatened his spine and he cried out for mercy. But the crowd’s chants demanded death and grew louder. He tried to clear his mind and focused on his last glimpse of the sun as the door of the iron maiden closed in on him.
the sage filled her small kitchen garden with its scent in the late morning as dew evaporated in the sun. its long blue flower spike jutted above the parsley and rosemary plants near it. a hummingbird, perhaps drawn by its scent, floated down, and hovering in mid-air slipped its long slender beak into each flower, delicately, slowly, lovingly.
The current fad of tall tall tall heels- Spikes if ever they were- they were now in fashion. I watched a young woman try to walk across a parking lot- painful and awkward to watch! Can’t imagine how the woman felt!
The spikes on the creature’s spine caught my attention immediately. This new creature was indeed something to behold. Tall and muscular, running on two long hind legs and with a dog like face. Its teeth were tiny and even, but sharp as any razor, ready to tear my arms off. Thankfully it was sedated and I could explore this for at least an hour before it came to its senses. I ran a finger along its spine, feeling the studded spiked grip onto my medical gloves and finally ended at the base of its neck. My eyes caught its own and I smiled benevolently, cupping the creature’s face. It bared its teeth at me as the needle dug into the back of the creature’s neck. Slowly, the size of this creature diminished into something more human. its body withered in pain and the metamorphosis started. For about a good ten minutes, the laboratory was filled with its pained screams until they abruptly stopped. My hands still were pressing onto the now human face of the creature and even if its tiny pointy teeth remained the same, along with the red eyes, the creature now looked like a man. Tall and lankly, just like before, with a beautiful mane of dark brown hair and terrified catlike eyes. ” All better?” I asked, and he just pulled away from me. “Shut up, Keanly.” My partner retorted and accepted the lab coat I had so generously offered to him. ” So this is your big secret? ” I asked, a bit disappointed that there was nothing more juicy than this.
The spikes hit me hard, as I stepped over the sharp, grey points. I almost screamed, it bubbling inside me, but I was too scared to scream. I jumped over the sharp pointy needles and steeped inside the tall building named death.
Around the feet, a littering
Of polyhedral pyramids,
The remnants of a game eroded
By time and fortune;
They were not formed by their
Possessors, but claimed
In ancient times,
Themselves ruins,
Desert, barren, empty,
Haunted by nothing more than
The memories of the spirits
That once roamed their catacombs
In their attempt to reclaim humanity.
Now, only the long repeated
Echoes of their wails
Leave faint traces of existence
Tickling the inner ear
Of those that might heed their wisdom.
Watch your step.
the spikes of my soul, the spikes in my skin. Like a rose I hurt everyone around, I feel worthless and I feel loneliness. It doesn’t matter how much people is around you, they just come and go; just like the rose dies, that’s how everything around me keep on dying.
“Ahhh!”
“Watch out for those spikes, Annie!”
Annie jumped and dodged and weaved, screaming at the top of her lungs. Professor Sanchez could hear the high-pitched sound bounce off the walls of the old Egyptian tomb. He grabbed her as she jumped on the edge, happy to see her safe.
It wasn’t until the soldiers had lined up did the girl notice the spikes. Why, they are everywhere. On their boots, their plates of armor, and especially their weapons. She didn’t know why they had so many spikes — they were here to help — weren’t they? Oh, yes, the Spiked Men were here to help.
So why was her mother crying?
“Spike your hair,” she said to me.
“I don’t like the style,” I replied. “It makes me seem more terrible than I already am.”
“I’ll break up with you if you don’t.”
“Fine,” I said. “If you want to end our relationship over a haircut, then it shows how shallow you are an I would rather end it now instead of having to go through the rest of the relationship knowing we’re a couple because of my hair.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said. “Can’t you take a joke?”
“No.”
I’m not funny. I’m not even slightly charming. I’m the spikes on your pleather jacket: all show and no poke and barely any show, if we’re being honest here. I’m just a useless piece of shiny jacket-decor that loses its shiny silver coat of paint after a season of wear. Thank god for that. Spikes were.just a stupid fad anyways.
they grow up from the ground from steel that has rooted itself in the earth, for no other reason than to spite those who tread there, and they begin to rise like pointed mountains destined to kill in some beautiful, twisted fate
Tricia look up at the spikes on the top of the fence as the car passed through it. She had felt for the last few days like she was the one in prison. But now they said she was she was free to go. But she didn’t feel free. She wasn’t free to go back to her own life, the one she had a week ago. She had to run, and hide, and worry, for the rest of her life, that they might find her again.
To release the juices, drive through the spikes at various points. This way there will be an even distribution throughout the mixture.
The bracelet wasn’t very feminine — spikes, after all! — but Chana loved it because it had been given to her by Aunt Fury, the infamous punk rocker, who was determined to toughen up her girly-girl niece if it was the last thing she did … which it just about was.
The spikes lining the collar of her leather jacket match perfectly with those in her personality: cold, sharp, and unforgiving. She is a fever, an animal, dangerous and on the prowl. I let myself fall victim, pinned down by the dark spines of her stilettos. My mind blurs as her lips drag along mine and I feel that this is wrong. She is not Mine.
The roses in her ears betray innocence she no longer carries in her thorny heart. My adrenaline spikes as I move toward her, too angry to submit, but too scared to turn my head astray.
“Woah, woah. Come on, we can’t have /spikes/,” scoffed my colleague. “Every platformer has spikes. They’re too simple. Begging for it.”
I rolled my eyes. “Lava?”
“That’s even /worse/! I mean, now we have the classic issues with convection -”
I cut him off. I knew he would go on about this for 25 minutes if I let him. “Fine, fine. Writhing mass of insects?”
“Too hard to animate.”
you’ve never been terribly fond of birds, but you decide you much prefer them to bird spikes, mounted on top of signs and other places the feathered things might roost. you suppose the spikes do have a metallic beauty to them, but there’s also an element of ugliness in their purpose.
a few days later, you wake up to silence.
complete, unnerving silence.
the birds have gone.
The spiking of the word came out of the grammarians mouth,
misleading me with the prepositions that were the frame of the picture,
the adverbs that were the parts of the painting, fine lines, texture, color,
the conjunctions that pieced and meshed and matched together the lining of colors,
when I walked into another museum of expressions,
I saw that the verbs and adjectives and nouns were the bricks–
the walls, the doors, the rooms of the house in which I walked into the live for this situation of human connection.
do you even believe in yourself? is that at least something you can believe in, atsushi?
no i don’t have to answer you, why should i, you don’t really care.
but i do care. i would hate to know someone hated basketball, especially someone witha s much natural talent as you.
mrsakakbara scoffed. kiyoshi teppei was very hard to understand, and while atsushi murasakibara never took the time to understnad people in the firs tplace, kiyoshi was an entirely different case and story.
Rough, hard, and hurtful! When you step on them it hurts! Don’t step on them!
The job hunt spiked my enthusiasm into a wall of fury when I searched the web and scoured the boulevard of commercial buildings and whenever I spoke with people they shrugged their shoulders directing me to apply online and did not seemingly offer a care and I could not take it anymore once I failed unfailingly and one day I dispersed harder efforts with the rigor of a math professor teaching a lesson to foreigners to land my success. After the lions had caged themselves in the bell of her mouth, the manager of Vans bowed down to my moving, platinum tongue, where we migrated from her desolate office, where I ambushed her with my gleaming resume and rupturing integrity glossing off my blue and green surfer tie, she eventually yielded responsively to a later interview. I spiked through the treachery of doubts superimposed by high-and-mighty folk who think otherwise of new graduates that poke hard at job boards.
A dark dungeon lay before the man, as he stared through the gaping portal. He had been in dungeons like this before, and knew full well that traps were the most common feature. Spiked pits, swinging blades, and wall darts to name a few, he had become adept at avoiding such hazards while delving into the unknown.
Although I was plunged by the spikes of the harsh mace, my death nevertheless raises suspicion to the task force investigating the premise of murder besides when my soul, invisible to living flesh, knocks over an officers gun when he misses the simplest and most blatant clues to find that god dam idiot’s clumsy messes of blood.
There are spikes on my little one’s cleats, the ones that he is so excited to wear. Just in the last few days has he had a cleat to put on each foot. After excessive persistence, I was inspired to go up to the attic to find the missing cleat that matched that miscellaneous one, so now there is a pair. With one shoe for each foot, he is a joy filled child.
There may have been dull moments in our days here at camp-hellfire, but if we are without hope and love, a resounding failure will blow over us or a clanging bear. I may have the sleight of combat, and know every latent creature; I may have tenacity strong enough to budge Tokyo bridges; but if I have no support, I am thin air. I may have gave out all I earned for my war accomplices, but if I have no faith, I am just a lost soul, spiked by regret.
“if the spikes poke through my skin, i’m neither bound to be joyed nor willing to retaliate”, said the stern old man who barked at the prairie wolf who glared at him with his vicious eyes and dangerously sharp fangs that sparkled like the edge of a Samuri sword.
Her heels made it sound as if they were made of spikes. She was angry, but he couldn’t figure out why; he hoped it wasn’t his own fault.
Gooo and achieve your goals , u can , neglect anyone stops u ,
#go and drow ur future
in the morning he is already awake, as he has been all night. he trails his fingertips along the slope of her neck, fearful of waking her. her jacket slips from the foot of the bed and crumples in a heap to the ground. the nine a.m. sunlight glints against the spikes that stud its denim shoulders.
they were coming from every single spot of her body and she was so afraid, as this had never happened to her before. i could easely see that she was at least as surprised as me, but there was no way of telling wether she was in pain or not
From the purposefully unreadable look in her eyes to the spikes that adorned her armor, everything about her warned you off. She oozed death and danger, excitement and tragedy, and though I was afraid, desperately afraid, I couldn’t stop myself from approaching her.
Driving into the mountain, nailing the turn of the wheel over and over and over again. Pounding the pavement. Laying down tracks across here, over to there, beyond this and that and the other. Driving into the mountain, into the sunset, into the wind and sky and open plains. Driving in the spikes, let’s tie this long road down.
His adrenaline spikes –
she drifts just out of reach, fingers extended, mouth agape but eyes invisible, just a bent and broken ray of light lining every scream –
and he catches her, and he pulls her away. Stardust.
Small, silver spikes dotted the collar of Celeste’s jacket, as she pulled at the fraying threads of her fingerless black gloves. She was nervous – I could tell. From the way she fiddled with loose strings on her clothes to the way she smoothed back her very short hair, she was probably wondering why she was even tolerating being in the same room as I was without cracking. I knew she wanted me, just as badly as I wanted her.
The world is blurry around the edges suddenly, like my mind has decided the best way to cope with this is not at all.
“What?” I say, my mouth dry and sticky.
My heart rate spikes as she repeats herself and the monitor next to me goes crazy. “You’re dying,” she says again, “and I am so sorry.”
The spikes jetted out of my ice shoes. I was about to embark in an adventure that would possibly risk my life. I opened the door and a gust of wind and cold and snow flew at me. It stun my cheeks and froze the inside of my nose. I would begin.
Dragons have spikes. Dinosaurs have spikes. Fences can have spikes. Heart rates can spike. Bras sometimes have spikes. Some insects have spikes. Bikers have spikes. But girls always have spikes.
She walked along these never ending pathway of spikes
thinking that all she wanted was to disappear into the pin hole that never seemed to come
she kept laboriously walking, her arms melting towards the ground
hoping to escape the to that which she was bound
Sharp steel threatened his spine and he cried out for mercy. But the crowd’s chants demanded death and grew louder. He tried to clear his mind and focused on his last glimpse of the sun as the door of the iron maiden closed in on him.
blue spikes
in the black sky
pierce the soft belly
of the Universe
and it weeps
moonlight
the sage filled her small kitchen garden with its scent in the late morning as dew evaporated in the sun. its long blue flower spike jutted above the parsley and rosemary plants near it. a hummingbird, perhaps drawn by its scent, floated down, and hovering in mid-air slipped its long slender beak into each flower, delicately, slowly, lovingly.
The current fad of tall tall tall heels- Spikes if ever they were- they were now in fashion. I watched a young woman try to walk across a parking lot- painful and awkward to watch! Can’t imagine how the woman felt!