The steps led up and out of sight, beyond hope of an end. She would never escape this place, she would never catch the clouds again or see beyond the black depths of this hell she had fallen into.
The steps seemed steeper than usual, almost like they were sloping downwards as well. I was scared I would trip and fall down, branches scratching me and the concrete scraping my skin. It would be worse it my arms thrashed and I managed to pull someone down with me. Taking a hesitant step down, I felt the uncertainty in my sweaty palms and praying thoughts. I took it one step at a time; one foot down, then the other on the same step so they were joined on the same step. The adults groaned behind me and I felt bad for taking so long. The staircase was narrow so could only fit one person on the way down. Down, down, down. Oh gosh, I wish I didn’t have claustrophobia right now.
They say to take slow steps when you are falling in love. To move slowly, to take your time, to protect yourself.
They didn’t mention how difficult it was to move slowly when you are falling fast.
We were sure that we were in the right building after we had climb the last set of steps, as we made our way towards the balcony, located on the south of the building. We were however pleasantly surprised to learned that not only were we in the wrong building, but the we will have to ascend more steps before we could arrive at the right location.
Ihre Schritte hallten auf dem weiten Flur. Die kalten Fliesen schmiegten sich an ihre Sohlen und schienen ihre Füße von ganz alleine zu tragen. Mit federnden Bewegungen schritt sie zum Ende der Halle, zu der hölzernen Tür, nahm eine Hand hoch und pochte mit den Knöcheln an das Holz.
once you see the word steps, you kind of start thinking about it in the figurative manner. but steps, in their literal manifestation itself can be a beautiful thing. staircases are classically associated wit romance and romantic moments.
The girl run into cliffs, passing through the mazes of sunflowers. With each step she came closer to the glimmering light—the stars shining. Up and up she went until she finally came to the top. The air was fresh and the silence was whispering. all the black and white morphed into gray. It then exploded into an array of colors that painted the skies. She finally founded paradise.
She needed to concentrate. How long had she been wandering in this direction? Twenty minutes? Maybe more? The soft sad was slowing her pace a bit, so she figured she had barely travelled a kilometer. She grew nervous. It had seemed like a good idea to wander off and clear her head, but every way she turned, all seesaw was barren land. His words flew through her head…something about the stars? She looked up.
I abruptly turned from you and started walking away as fast as I could. Everything around me turned into an impressionist painting, blurring as I passed by. The only thing I could hear was a mixture of my breathing and an impossibly loud ringing that seemed to echo throughout my entire body. My lungs felt ice cold, and with every breath a thousands knives stabbed into my chest. My skin was fire hot and my cheeks were flushed. I couldn’t bear the pain that your words brought. I only managed a few steps before my eyes began to sting from the salty tears welling up in my eyes. I squeezed them shut trying to remain composed. “Don’t let them see you cry. Don’t let them. It will only work against you. Just get through those doors and you’re be fine,” I thought mantratically to myself.
Of all the ones I’ve taken, this one might have been the mistake. The misstep, where I should turn around and just go home. But something won’t let me. There’s something keeping me here, even though i should leave. What is it?
She carefully climbed up the icy steps. I hope this is worth it, she thought, wishing she were back home by her cozy fire with a good book and a cup of hot cocoa. She wondered what made him call this meeting today of all days. Everything else in town was closed, most people happy to stay home on this, one of the coldest days of the year.
when it’s dark and you feel for the staircase
going up slowly one step at a time
if you don’t count or anything your foot comes down hard at the top where you expected another step.
that’s what my first kiss was like.
I grunted and heaved with each step that I climbed
Exhausting my body, my heart, and my mind.
Ambition was forced; feeble and weak
Dreading what was waiting for me at the peak.
And so there I was, at the top of the ladder
Rewarded with wealth, but that didn’t matter.
I woke up each day knowing that it was lost
The life I should have; far too heavy a cost.
There were 100 steps to the top, what would I find there ? the sun beat on my back, my bag got heavier. Hopefully she would be waiting for me…It’s been so long since I saw her face, drunk of her perfume, felt those soft fingers enclosing mine in such an intimate embrace, kissed her cheek, oh mother….
I’ve looked at you, and I’ve known you, for so long.
Yet there is so much space between us.
I have loved you, dearest.
But I refuse to take the steps to reunite us.
I don’t feel they are steps worth taking any more.
You made that clear when you took steps to separate yourself from me.
Especially when I was replaced with another.
leading somewhere. perhaps. somewhere important. or rather, somewhere meant to be important. somewhere you can run to if you want to train for a boxing match. running up and running down. sweat trickling down your face.
“Small, baby steps now. Yeah, that’s right, just like that! Here we go now, just come to me… Walk to me and daddy… Come on baby, you can do it! You’re doing it! Look who’s a good girl! Mommy’s girl!”
I just wish I could stop running away from it all.
baby steps, teeny tiny baby steps. Ilet out a long slow breath, calm smooth yes I can do this, deep breath, shoulders back, chin up, eyes stealed. I am not your punching bag, I am not your slave and I will not be your word whipping post. I am leaving you. Today.
as i walk up the steps into my new life i feel very aprehentios to the new life i am going to lead. will i like it? will i be able to acomplish eveything i set out to? or will i fail and never reach my full potential
the first steps i saw i tripped on them. it hurts the most when you fall over and your shin gets smashed. theres this one step at home that i never touch cos it creaks and i like to be a ninja and avoid it so that i can scare people upstairs or downstairs. silly steps.
I’m talking to the drapes to see if they hear me
I wonder what’d they say if they had the ability to talk?
Oh well the steps I’ve made to get this far are not in vain.
One day I’ll hear the trumpets and whistles play
So loudly in the distance afar.
Step 1. Get a job.
Step 2. Figure out what you really want.
Step 3. Quit your job.
Step 4. Try your luck.
Step 5. Fail.
Step 6. Get a job
Step 7. Buy a house, a car; build a family.
Step 8. Die.
Strange how many steps it takes to go from the bedroom to the bathroom when you’re drunk. You might normally take, what, four, five steps to get there when sober? But alas, when you’ve had three too many (bottles, not glasses), and the world is swimming and the walls are too loud and your toes hurt when they touch hard wood, then life is just too hard to think about giving, or taking, a shit. You can’t help but think… hell, I don’t know what to think. I just want to throw up. But I’m not in the bathroom yet… Oh, well. Here goes.
Ralph.
Sorry about that. I’ll clean it up in the morning.
I’ve taken a few. I’ve skipped a few. But so far, it’s all worked out. We don’t need steps. No formula. No prescribed action. Just do. Just go. Just be. Fuck steps.
steps thunder in the hallway. 29 ways to my baby’s door. steps in the kitchen, the laundry room, the bathroom, out the door and down the sidewalk. To the office, with the pool and the hot tub and the golf course. Steps to work, and around the unit, and to the break room and the nurse’s station. No more time for more steps, the alarm has rung, and it’s time to go home.
I take them every day, they are counting the journey as I go.
Several have become very laborious lately, filled with tears, sadness, confusion.
They lead me to a light at the end of a tunnel, one filled with joy and love. I know that day exists and I see it coming. It is beautiful.
We took the first steps to our freedom when we released ourselves from those damned chains. Benny was crying in the back, his hands stretched wide above his head and his little cheeks burning furiously. Alena was the first to push us forward, her brown tackies gathering mud as she soldiered on.
steps thunder in the hallway. 29 ways to my baby’s door. steps in the kitchen, the laundry room, the bathroom, out the door and down the sidewalk. To the office, with the pool and the hot tub and the golf course. Steps to work, and around the unit, and to the break room and the nurse’s station.
Baby steps. Step in time… mere copies of someone else’s words. But, I’m still empty; my pen’s dry. I’ve lost practice. Ideas don’t flow. Paragraphs won’t build themselves. Pathetic little me.
I took a deep breath. I looked around me, there was mom, dad, and my two sisters. I knew I can do this I tell myself. I have to, or they say I will not make it to high school.And I did, I learned how to open that lock, my way around the school, and even better yet how not to pretty much do everything. Like how to realize when it’s time to drop a conversation, or to pick something up: like hey shut up. Small steps, these are. No, baby steps. I just hope that one day I’ll became an adult.
Steps. Walking up them. Knowing that behind that door is where we’ll undress. It’s where I’ll feel that warm kiss. Again and again. Always, if only. If only it were always. But then again, if that were so… Walking up these steps wouldn’t be as exciting as it is right now.
He paced himself as he walked to the ledge, savoring every step.
How funny, he thought, that he had always been told that his first steps, taken at one, or possibly two – he couldn’t quite remember – were as straight as an arrow, an invisible line, unwavering and purposeful. Funny how things had changed.
The steps led up and out of sight, beyond hope of an end. She would never escape this place, she would never catch the clouds again or see beyond the black depths of this hell she had fallen into.
The steps seemed steeper than usual, almost like they were sloping downwards as well. I was scared I would trip and fall down, branches scratching me and the concrete scraping my skin. It would be worse it my arms thrashed and I managed to pull someone down with me. Taking a hesitant step down, I felt the uncertainty in my sweaty palms and praying thoughts. I took it one step at a time; one foot down, then the other on the same step so they were joined on the same step. The adults groaned behind me and I felt bad for taking so long. The staircase was narrow so could only fit one person on the way down. Down, down, down. Oh gosh, I wish I didn’t have claustrophobia right now.
Steps.
They say to take slow steps when you are falling in love. To move slowly, to take your time, to protect yourself.
They didn’t mention how difficult it was to move slowly when you are falling fast.
We were sure that we were in the right building after we had climb the last set of steps, as we made our way towards the balcony, located on the south of the building. We were however pleasantly surprised to learned that not only were we in the wrong building, but the we will have to ascend more steps before we could arrive at the right location.
Ihre Schritte hallten auf dem weiten Flur. Die kalten Fliesen schmiegten sich an ihre Sohlen und schienen ihre Füße von ganz alleine zu tragen. Mit federnden Bewegungen schritt sie zum Ende der Halle, zu der hölzernen Tür, nahm eine Hand hoch und pochte mit den Knöcheln an das Holz.
once you see the word steps, you kind of start thinking about it in the figurative manner. but steps, in their literal manifestation itself can be a beautiful thing. staircases are classically associated wit romance and romantic moments.
12. Pushed. Machine. 1000. Foot. Sisters.
The girl run into cliffs, passing through the mazes of sunflowers. With each step she came closer to the glimmering light—the stars shining. Up and up she went until she finally came to the top. The air was fresh and the silence was whispering. all the black and white morphed into gray. It then exploded into an array of colors that painted the skies. She finally founded paradise.
She needed to concentrate. How long had she been wandering in this direction? Twenty minutes? Maybe more? The soft sad was slowing her pace a bit, so she figured she had barely travelled a kilometer. She grew nervous. It had seemed like a good idea to wander off and clear her head, but every way she turned, all seesaw was barren land. His words flew through her head…something about the stars? She looked up.
I climbed the Spanish steps with Michael in ’78 and Todd in ’09. It’s not that you get a lot of baggage in 30 years–just that I carried my suitcase.
I abruptly turned from you and started walking away as fast as I could. Everything around me turned into an impressionist painting, blurring as I passed by. The only thing I could hear was a mixture of my breathing and an impossibly loud ringing that seemed to echo throughout my entire body. My lungs felt ice cold, and with every breath a thousands knives stabbed into my chest. My skin was fire hot and my cheeks were flushed. I couldn’t bear the pain that your words brought. I only managed a few steps before my eyes began to sting from the salty tears welling up in my eyes. I squeezed them shut trying to remain composed. “Don’t let them see you cry. Don’t let them. It will only work against you. Just get through those doors and you’re be fine,” I thought mantratically to myself.
Of all the ones I’ve taken, this one might have been the mistake. The misstep, where I should turn around and just go home. But something won’t let me. There’s something keeping me here, even though i should leave. What is it?
She carefully climbed up the icy steps. I hope this is worth it, she thought, wishing she were back home by her cozy fire with a good book and a cup of hot cocoa. She wondered what made him call this meeting today of all days. Everything else in town was closed, most people happy to stay home on this, one of the coldest days of the year.
when it’s dark and you feel for the staircase
going up slowly one step at a time
if you don’t count or anything your foot comes down hard at the top where you expected another step.
that’s what my first kiss was like.
she ran, ran so fast. then she fell. to the bottom, and he stood there, waiting. He scooped her up and carried her to safety, to comfort, to home.
I grunted and heaved with each step that I climbed
Exhausting my body, my heart, and my mind.
Ambition was forced; feeble and weak
Dreading what was waiting for me at the peak.
And so there I was, at the top of the ladder
Rewarded with wealth, but that didn’t matter.
I woke up each day knowing that it was lost
The life I should have; far too heavy a cost.
There were 100 steps to the top, what would I find there ? the sun beat on my back, my bag got heavier. Hopefully she would be waiting for me…It’s been so long since I saw her face, drunk of her perfume, felt those soft fingers enclosing mine in such an intimate embrace, kissed her cheek, oh mother….
I’ve looked at you, and I’ve known you, for so long.
Yet there is so much space between us.
I have loved you, dearest.
But I refuse to take the steps to reunite us.
I don’t feel they are steps worth taking any more.
You made that clear when you took steps to separate yourself from me.
Especially when I was replaced with another.
leading somewhere. perhaps. somewhere important. or rather, somewhere meant to be important. somewhere you can run to if you want to train for a boxing match. running up and running down. sweat trickling down your face.
“Small, baby steps now. Yeah, that’s right, just like that! Here we go now, just come to me… Walk to me and daddy… Come on baby, you can do it! You’re doing it! Look who’s a good girl! Mommy’s girl!”
I just wish I could stop running away from it all.
Steps i take to come to you
steps i take to retreat back
No matter how far u go from me
I will always welcome you back
steps. steps of the lincoln memorial. that’s all life is. it takes a long time to get to the top, and it’s exhausting, but the view is so worth it.
baby steps, teeny tiny baby steps. Ilet out a long slow breath, calm smooth yes I can do this, deep breath, shoulders back, chin up, eyes stealed. I am not your punching bag, I am not your slave and I will not be your word whipping post. I am leaving you. Today.
as i walk up the steps into my new life i feel very aprehentios to the new life i am going to lead. will i like it? will i be able to acomplish eveything i set out to? or will i fail and never reach my full potential
sometimes I take way to many. other times I take them to fast and fall. Its something that must be done
the first steps i saw i tripped on them. it hurts the most when you fall over and your shin gets smashed. theres this one step at home that i never touch cos it creaks and i like to be a ninja and avoid it so that i can scare people upstairs or downstairs. silly steps.
I’m talking to the drapes to see if they hear me
I wonder what’d they say if they had the ability to talk?
Oh well the steps I’ve made to get this far are not in vain.
One day I’ll hear the trumpets and whistles play
So loudly in the distance afar.
Step 1. Get a job.
Step 2. Figure out what you really want.
Step 3. Quit your job.
Step 4. Try your luck.
Step 5. Fail.
Step 6. Get a job
Step 7. Buy a house, a car; build a family.
Step 8. Die.
Strange how many steps it takes to go from the bedroom to the bathroom when you’re drunk. You might normally take, what, four, five steps to get there when sober? But alas, when you’ve had three too many (bottles, not glasses), and the world is swimming and the walls are too loud and your toes hurt when they touch hard wood, then life is just too hard to think about giving, or taking, a shit. You can’t help but think… hell, I don’t know what to think. I just want to throw up. But I’m not in the bathroom yet… Oh, well. Here goes.
Ralph.
Sorry about that. I’ll clean it up in the morning.
I’ve taken a few. I’ve skipped a few. But so far, it’s all worked out. We don’t need steps. No formula. No prescribed action. Just do. Just go. Just be. Fuck steps.
How many steps does it take to get to your life goal?
One too many for me. :(
How many steps does it take to get to love?
None. There is no love.
steps thunder in the hallway. 29 ways to my baby’s door. steps in the kitchen, the laundry room, the bathroom, out the door and down the sidewalk. To the office, with the pool and the hot tub and the golf course. Steps to work, and around the unit, and to the break room and the nurse’s station. No more time for more steps, the alarm has rung, and it’s time to go home.
I take them every day, they are counting the journey as I go.
Several have become very laborious lately, filled with tears, sadness, confusion.
They lead me to a light at the end of a tunnel, one filled with joy and love. I know that day exists and I see it coming. It is beautiful.
Small indecisive ones. Take them one by one. You’ll get there someday, but for now, focus on the steps
We took the first steps to our freedom when we released ourselves from those damned chains. Benny was crying in the back, his hands stretched wide above his head and his little cheeks burning furiously. Alena was the first to push us forward, her brown tackies gathering mud as she soldiered on.
steps thunder in the hallway. 29 ways to my baby’s door. steps in the kitchen, the laundry room, the bathroom, out the door and down the sidewalk. To the office, with the pool and the hot tub and the golf course. Steps to work, and around the unit, and to the break room and the nurse’s station.
Baby steps. Step in time… mere copies of someone else’s words. But, I’m still empty; my pen’s dry. I’ve lost practice. Ideas don’t flow. Paragraphs won’t build themselves. Pathetic little me.
I took a deep breath. I looked around me, there was mom, dad, and my two sisters. I knew I can do this I tell myself. I have to, or they say I will not make it to high school.And I did, I learned how to open that lock, my way around the school, and even better yet how not to pretty much do everything. Like how to realize when it’s time to drop a conversation, or to pick something up: like hey shut up. Small steps, these are. No, baby steps. I just hope that one day I’ll became an adult.
Steps. Walking up them. Knowing that behind that door is where we’ll undress. It’s where I’ll feel that warm kiss. Again and again. Always, if only. If only it were always. But then again, if that were so… Walking up these steps wouldn’t be as exciting as it is right now.
He paced himself as he walked to the ledge, savoring every step.
How funny, he thought, that he had always been told that his first steps, taken at one, or possibly two – he couldn’t quite remember – were as straight as an arrow, an invisible line, unwavering and purposeful. Funny how things had changed.
He took one last breath and stepped off.