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She listened to it and immediately it brought back memories of the days she loved most. Holding hands, laughing and ultimate happiness. But that was past, she realised. She hadn’t seen him in years.
By Pam URL on 02.18.2012
He felt the curve of her back in lumps, bumps of bone and connecting-tissues beneath a filo colored husk. This must be what it was like to follow the tracks to then ends of the earth; stepping on gold planks until one tumbles off the cliff of existence.
By N.J. URL on 02.18.2012
I had never been to a track meet before. Watching men and women hurl themselves over bars had its own, albeit strange grace and elegance. When they run and jump, or just run, there was an amazing strength in their gait.
By k on 02.18.2012
He comes into the lounge at night because the rest of the students are already (should be) sleeping in their rooms. The music plays soft, and it’s so easy to lose track of what’s happening around him. It’s a comfortable place, and he dozes off at a comfortable pace even though he’s in the brink of sleep and wakefulness. This room is his haven; a three a.m. sanctuary of his own.
By Circinus URL on 02.18.2012
How time flies. I’ve been revolving around a sick sense of darkness for years now. Boredom this and boredom that. how do I escape enough, at least breifly enough, to at least try and have some actual fun? harboring all these feelings is viciously rotting my brain. How could I have been so depresse3d and not even know it? I have to write but all the words are getting shorter and shorter and I sometimes think that muscle of mine is deead. Ten minutes util work. Guess I should go pretend to live.
By Trey on 02.18.2012
do you remember those days when we’d walk around the track just talking? And fighting. and crying. and wondering things and worrying about things. worry more than an average 5th grader should have to worry. i remember that track. i remember the talking and fighting and crying. and i miss it. i miss it all. we were younger. happier purer and simpler.
By celeste URL on 02.18.2012
I lost track of time, i didn’t know what i was doing anymore, it was just so empty in my heart yet so heavy.
By Freefall on 02.18.2012
track the sun light which lead you to the pass of happiness track your soul to the true meaning of friendship track the eyes of your lovers to know what os the meaning of our lives which is floweriness by
By mohamed on 02.18.2012
And field. keep on track. track a criminal. rack. tracking me down.
By Logan on 02.18.2012
The track marks on her arms would never scab over and heal. Death in the tarot cards was often read as a new beginning, or change. In this case, it froze the scars that would otherwise be altered by time and healing.
By Nina URL on 02.18.2012
as you trace
along the curve
of my shoulder,
By corey leigh kirby on 02.18.2012
Track and field. It’s a course where you run and you do stuff and it’s super interesting. There are many misconceptions about track, it’s supposedly only a physical path. Like “Are you on the right track?” Track can also be defined as a path way.
By Carrie Lim on 02.18.2012
As I felt the wind rushing against my face, I glanced behined me. There she was, my rival. I needed to beat her or else my whole career would end. I looked in front again, I could see the finish line. I could hear the crowds cheering. I was within a few meters from it. Then it happened, my sight went blurry, the sound of the crowd cheering me on faded, I fell, I lost.
By Joy on 02.18.2012
sometimes i lose the track; i actually lose myself completely. I need to focus a bit more otherwise the world will pass whirling around me.
By prabhat parmal URL on 02.18.2012
If they tried to track me down, they would find that the clues I leave behind are half-full cups of cold coffee, bobby pins, and bare footprints.
By mere URL on 02.18.2012
How many days now… 63 until he left. The day he moved out, she booked a flight home immediately, knowing the house, empty of him, would welcome nothing but demonized sleep. The path ahead: completely unknown. Breathe.
By ejkerr on 02.18.2012
I can’t keep track of how many times … Time slips away like a garbage heap. Everything rots.
By aubrey URL on 02.18.2012
I ran, and I ran. The stitch in my side grew more painful with every step. Out of bed, in the shower, to the desk, back to bed. Over and over again, my life one step after another on this rat wheel of life. I had to break the chain, I had to get out of here. But to what I asked myself, as I pressed my hand against my cubicle wall. Get to what?
By Mike Thompson on 02.18.2012
Track makes me think of all the great tracks I have listened to on albums through my life. The word track obviously comes from the fact that old vinyl albums had a track on them. It is strange that we still use that word. It is funny how certain tracks are connected with memorable moments in your life.
By Darren on 02.18.2012
She walked along the train tracks. She didn’t look back, she just kept walking. The problems she caused, the messes she made. They couldn’t follow her. They would be the past and she could start over. Or that was the plan.
She hadn’t meant to cause her parents to get divorced. Her partying, drinking and slutting around weren’t supposed to affect them. It was just her having fun. Until the accident.
By Nancy URL on 02.18.2012
Right one, left one. Fork in the road. Im ready to run, but there’s nowhere to go.Not a sign in sight. Not a footprint to follow. How is it, she was able to get so far. I can almost see her in the distance. Where is she when I need her? That ghost of a woman. Leaving me wondering.Right one, left one. Fork in the road.
By Aljundi on 02.18.2012
So I stood still. Not knowing what to do or who was watching this single worst moment of my life. The gun had gone off but its sounds had only impalled me.
By Ruben URL on 02.18.2012
Track. A place to run? Or to keep track of whatever? I don’t know. Track down somebody, somebody that’s caused pain in your life. Maybe even happiness; just to relive the moments. For the sake of it. A track. A place to run. Where athletes have accomplished many things. Lived their dreams.
By Matthew on 02.18.2012
Keeping track of me all the time. I never had the chance to do anything out of sight. That is how people steal. That’s how people do bad things. It’s for the thrill of getting away with it. It’s so that when they do look at you, they still think you are the same, and you have not done anything wrong.
By Daianna on 02.18.2012
Well, what ever you say.
By g URL on 02.18.2012
we used to sit and talk for
hours at that beach?
that one our parents
used to take
us to when we were kids?
we’d lie under the stars
for hours, a little away from
we’d lose track of time
and then wake up in our beds,
but we still did it, night after night
By Iffath URL on 02.18.2012
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.