i was sitting under a bridge and watching the sea. the sea was grey and the rains were incessant. luckily, under a bridge, i didnt get drenched. gorgeous, it was. really. and romantic too.
Under pressure — the song thumped out from the radio, all clicks and snaps and yodeling voices. Bum ba bum ba da ba bum! Bum ba bum ba da ba Bum! And his eyes ached and the road rolled out before him like an endless ribbon of time.
Failure is ubiquitous. Almost there, but never really. Over the top isn’t a good thing, but it’s far worse to be just under. Just on the precipice of achievement.
If I fall under, where will I go? It’s not a safe place up here. But down there, well it must be worse. I have not got any guts to go. I have not got the balls to stay. I can’t.
Und er ging. Die Tür fiel hinter ihm ins Schloss. Eigentlich sehr leise, dafür, dass sie fiel. Er hörte, wie seine Schritte sich entfernten. 3. Stock. 2. Stock. 1. Stock. Erdgeschoss. Dann fiel auch die Haustüre ins Schloss.
i lay awake all night under the blade, watching it, a sharp black shape hovering just below the ceiling in the sad, sad darkness. i lay on my back on my bed bleeding for fear it would fall, and in the morning it was gone. and so was I.
underneath the bridge was a boat. it was an old rickety boat. an old man walked over to it and climbed in. he paddled the boat to an island there he found treasure
Under the skies I laid, thinking on all that had happened that day, all of the ways I had failed you, and all the ways you failed me. It never stopped, the streams of thought ripping through my hurting mind. There are so many ways to break hearts.
Under- under the world, caverns opened up, a maze of earth’s cathedrals and mosques, a place of worship for stone and stalacites and the simple sound of dripping water. Little light bled through, and the light that did brought only poisonous glares.
I’m slouched uner this desk and all I think is FUCK FUCK FUCK. You’re coming so close I can see the gun, I think I smell it, but really how can I be thinking anything other than FUCK FUCK I’M GOING TO DIE RIGHT NOW. You breath and it’s terrible.
Understand me. Talk to me. Please me. Love me. Remember me. Acknowledge me. Ask me. Help me. Consider me. Take me with you. Hold my hand. Call me. Tickle me. Hug me. Spank me. Bite me. Lick me. Come to me. Talk to me. Text me. Email me. Kiss me. Carry me. Be with me. Always.
under everything that has cover all of what we were meant to be a cover of shame and denial beauty hidden in the utter darkness for little reason but for shame but for despair but for fear of what shall be shown
Submerged. I don’t know what to do about it. Crushed underneath the pressure. The pressure I put on myself. The pressure I assume others are putting on me. Do I even know? Of course not. I analyze. I read to much into every word and every gesture. I see things that aren’t there. I fall prey to the evil could and would and what ifs. Under it all, I’m not even sure where I’m going anymore.
Under is where you don’t want to be, ever. Under anesthesia, under water, under the influence… it’s a terrible thing, sadly, and people don’t fucking care.
under the trees i sit and listen and wonder and hear. The noises of the world I cannot normally hear because I am above the water, above the hell risen stream of light and hurt. I cannot fathom this feeling. The feeling of being under when always up above. I hear the voices that always follow me around, and they set my world alight with this hope.
I am not the best. I am not the worst. Experience will drive me. Experience will drive me.
There was a troll who lived under the dark uminous bridge. It smelled of rotting flesh. Noone ever travels down there..at least no that anyone knows of because once you go down you never come back up. Many teenagers have dared and disappeared under this bridge.
Under, over, inbetween. Where is it at? I have no idea. It’s scary. All of those thoughts. Under and unsure, over and over excited, and inbetween and indecisive. Blah.
Under what? Under the bed. Underwear. Underwater scares the hell out of me, to be honest. I’m absolutely petrified of drowning- and sharks. Those are pretty scary as well. I don’t know why.
I’d been under the impression that I could control most things that came my way in life. Then someone dropped into my life that was beyond my control. But just in the way that person dropped into my life, it was just as easy to drop out, leaving me under the impression that few things can be controlled.
Underneath all of the imminent loneliness is an adventure waiting to happen for each and every one of us. So leaving my friends for college isn’t sad, it’s exciting. That’s what I tell myself anyways.
i remember so many times when i was under something, most significantly a gazeebo my freshman year of college, so many times we’d hang out under the gazeebo and drink or talk or relax. The only other thing i can imagine is underpants.
Under the raspberry bush there was a tiny little girl that lived in a tiny little world. She would sometimes pop out of her tiny little house to see if anything interesting was happeneing. But usually she just went right back.
I am under pressure, I am trying hard to log into my other writing website called 100 words, and it’s saying I don’t exsist, well, hello?? I’ve been writing there for this whole month, and suddenly none of my email addresses are vaild…
Under what? Under all restrictions, I have come to find that I understand myself as a very complicated human being. I’m not perfect, by any means, because I am under a lot of pressure. I am under a lot of peoples’ microscopic views… and I don’t understand.
She hid herself underneath all the blankets she could find. Maybe if she couldn’t see them the heart-wrenching pain would disappear. She had given up, her heart was broken for the last time. She just couldn’t bare seeing the wall of bears or stuffed animals her ex-boyfriends had given her, this was all too much. Balling her eyes out whilst blasting music through her ears, she hid herself underneath the blankets for the last time.
He was hidden under the bridge, huddled, trying to make himself invisible. He was doing a pretty good job. It was hard for kerry to find him. She circled around, and finally heard the crying. She knew she had to get him out of here, or they would never make it.
well, when I was under him all i could think about was his rock hard abs…. thwy were soooo hard.. it made my whole body go numb for a while. ok… I know that was dirty but that is what I think of when i see the word under…
I squirmed around under him–he was a little heavier than he looked. No one was watching, but I still didn’t feel comfortable doing what he’d ask. What if someone came in? What if I was bad at it? I just couldn’t take it.
i was sitting under a bridge and watching the sea. the sea was grey and the rains were incessant. luckily, under a bridge, i didnt get drenched. gorgeous, it was. really. and romantic too.
i want to see your douchebag face under my shitkickers, made with REAL leather. try that on for size, big boy.
He lived under the cloud of economic disaster in the valley of despair.
Under pressure — the song thumped out from the radio, all clicks and snaps and yodeling voices. Bum ba bum ba da ba bum! Bum ba bum ba da ba Bum! And his eyes ached and the road rolled out before him like an endless ribbon of time.
under the weather
under the table
hiding from the rain
utter gloom and grey
pattering drums
at least i’m not being pelted
self assessment and analysis
Failure is ubiquitous. Almost there, but never really. Over the top isn’t a good thing, but it’s far worse to be just under. Just on the precipice of achievement.
If I fall under, where will I go? It’s not a safe place up here. But down there, well it must be worse. I have not got any guts to go. I have not got the balls to stay. I can’t.
Und er ging. Die Tür fiel hinter ihm ins Schloss. Eigentlich sehr leise, dafür, dass sie fiel. Er hörte, wie seine Schritte sich entfernten. 3. Stock. 2. Stock. 1. Stock. Erdgeschoss. Dann fiel auch die Haustüre ins Schloss.
i lay awake all night under the blade, watching it, a sharp black shape hovering just below the ceiling in the sad, sad darkness. i lay on my back on my bed bleeding for fear it would fall, and in the morning it was gone. and so was I.
Is a preposition. I immediately think about a bridge or bed. Underneath, something, water. Undertand something . More words together.
underneath the bridge was a boat. it was an old rickety boat. an old man walked over to it and climbed in. he paddled the boat to an island there he found treasure
Under the skies I laid, thinking on all that had happened that day, all of the ways I had failed you, and all the ways you failed me. It never stopped, the streams of thought ripping through my hurting mind. There are so many ways to break hearts.
Under- under the world, caverns opened up, a maze of earth’s cathedrals and mosques, a place of worship for stone and stalacites and the simple sound of dripping water. Little light bled through, and the light that did brought only poisonous glares.
I’m slouched uner this desk and all I think is FUCK FUCK FUCK. You’re coming so close I can see the gun, I think I smell it, but really how can I be thinking anything other than FUCK FUCK I’M GOING TO DIE RIGHT NOW. You breath and it’s terrible.
Understand me. Talk to me. Please me. Love me. Remember me. Acknowledge me. Ask me. Help me. Consider me. Take me with you. Hold my hand. Call me. Tickle me. Hug me. Spank me. Bite me. Lick me. Come to me. Talk to me. Text me. Email me. Kiss me. Carry me. Be with me. Always.
Under the bridge sat the cat, soggy, yet satisfied. Tonight, one less mouse would scum up the streets.
underneath it all, all the towering trees, all the golden leaves that had fallen, lay a tiny trinket. a single gold locket on a small gold chain.
under everything that has cover all of what we were meant to be a cover of shame and denial beauty hidden in the utter darkness for little reason but for shame but for despair but for fear of what shall be shown
Submerged. I don’t know what to do about it. Crushed underneath the pressure. The pressure I put on myself. The pressure I assume others are putting on me. Do I even know? Of course not. I analyze. I read to much into every word and every gesture. I see things that aren’t there. I fall prey to the evil could and would and what ifs. Under it all, I’m not even sure where I’m going anymore.
Under is where you don’t want to be, ever. Under anesthesia, under water, under the influence… it’s a terrible thing, sadly, and people don’t fucking care.
under the trees i sit and listen and wonder and hear. The noises of the world I cannot normally hear because I am above the water, above the hell risen stream of light and hurt. I cannot fathom this feeling. The feeling of being under when always up above. I hear the voices that always follow me around, and they set my world alight with this hope.
I am not the best. I am not the worst. Experience will drive me. Experience will drive me.
There was a troll who lived under the dark uminous bridge. It smelled of rotting flesh. Noone ever travels down there..at least no that anyone knows of because once you go down you never come back up. Many teenagers have dared and disappeared under this bridge.
Under, over, inbetween. Where is it at? I have no idea. It’s scary. All of those thoughts. Under and unsure, over and over excited, and inbetween and indecisive. Blah.
Under what? Under the bed. Underwear. Underwater scares the hell out of me, to be honest. I’m absolutely petrified of drowning- and sharks. Those are pretty scary as well. I don’t know why.
I’d been under the impression that I could control most things that came my way in life. Then someone dropped into my life that was beyond my control. But just in the way that person dropped into my life, it was just as easy to drop out, leaving me under the impression that few things can be controlled.
Underneath all of the imminent loneliness is an adventure waiting to happen for each and every one of us. So leaving my friends for college isn’t sad, it’s exciting. That’s what I tell myself anyways.
i remember so many times when i was under something, most significantly a gazeebo my freshman year of college, so many times we’d hang out under the gazeebo and drink or talk or relax. The only other thing i can imagine is underpants.
Under the raspberry bush there was a tiny little girl that lived in a tiny little world. She would sometimes pop out of her tiny little house to see if anything interesting was happeneing. But usually she just went right back.
The Stars the I gaze about under this beautiful sky make me wonder, “is this what i really am?” Yes, Yes it it
I am under pressure, I am trying hard to log into my other writing website called 100 words, and it’s saying I don’t exsist, well, hello?? I’ve been writing there for this whole month, and suddenly none of my email addresses are vaild…
Beneath the old oak in the grass as green as the envy you hid so well,
Beneath the sky so blue it made you cry tears of loneliness,
Her body rots
Under what? Under all restrictions, I have come to find that I understand myself as a very complicated human being. I’m not perfect, by any means, because I am under a lot of pressure. I am under a lot of peoples’ microscopic views… and I don’t understand.
She hid herself underneath all the blankets she could find. Maybe if she couldn’t see them the heart-wrenching pain would disappear. She had given up, her heart was broken for the last time. She just couldn’t bare seeing the wall of bears or stuffed animals her ex-boyfriends had given her, this was all too much. Balling her eyes out whilst blasting music through her ears, she hid herself underneath the blankets for the last time.
Underwear. Under where? Somewhere. Somewhere over the rainbow. Water UNDER the bridge. Falling under. Under who? Under You. What??
He was hidden under the bridge, huddled, trying to make himself invisible. He was doing a pretty good job. It was hard for kerry to find him. She circled around, and finally heard the crying. She knew she had to get him out of here, or they would never make it.
I ran under the sleeping city. Little did they know disaster was about to strike on everything they know and love and I am the soul cause of it all.
well, when I was under him all i could think about was his rock hard abs…. thwy were soooo hard.. it made my whole body go numb for a while. ok… I know that was dirty but that is what I think of when i see the word under…
ground
I squirmed around under him–he was a little heavier than he looked. No one was watching, but I still didn’t feel comfortable doing what he’d ask. What if someone came in? What if I was bad at it? I just couldn’t take it.