The veins in his head were popping out while his face turned a bright red. He was so angry, but she couldn’t understand why. She apologized for wrecking the car. Maybe it was the tow truck driver incident that set him off. She would never know. he dropped dead.
She was like the blood running through my veins. I needed her. I needed her to survive.
And when she wasn’t there, I felt empty and dry…like at any moment I would cease to exist.
Where have you gone, my precious Amelia?
sometimes i think that veins are very much like the highway system. there are things going and coming forward and backward. no blood. thats the good thing about it. no blood. the traffic sometimes moves slow, like a clogged artery. you get trucks stalled. sometimes tow trucks. sometimes then there are tow trucks taht pick up those tow trucks, which is one of the most miraculous things that you can imagine seeing in your lifetime. thank God i have been at the wheel to see such things. i am very proud of the fact.
I’m talking red, red love and green, green envy and blue, blue moods and golden intentions and yellow cowardice and rose-shaded expectations and white, white fire and black, black night runs through these veins.
With the blood I hear cousing through my veins, I continue on my way. My destination grows ever nearer, and I grow ever more ready to face my fate. If but one step in his plan falls out of place, I will be ready to strike. And strike I will.
The nurse says my viens are very small, smaller than normal. She says if I ever decide to give blood at the bloodmobile, they’d tear my arm up something awful and I’d get horrible bruses.
I already wrote about veins.
This is so goddamn boring.
Instead I think I’ll write about coffee and how my addiction has incessantly been taking over my life.
No, I’ve decided this website is stupid and will not visit again.
thick long cavities
thumping in a serpent like saunter
constricting my limbs and shaking my belly
the blood fills my organs with the life
the one I just swallowed away
The blood in your veins boils with pretension. Why do so many dye their hair blonde? What is the fascination with yellow hair. Brown, now there’s a color. Red, passionate.
The blood runs through them, and the blood is red. But not unless you are a royalty, in that case it’s blue, and blue is the sky and white are the clouds.
But when it’s night it’s dark. So it’s time to go home.
your legs! your legs! that’s all they could say. all I could think of. varicose? at my age? shouldn’t have worn the shorts – that all I kept thinking. But it was going to get out some day – it was inevitable.
My veins are very small. I found this out by going to the Red Cross to donate blood for my upcoming surgery. I was ecstatic to find this out. I am terribly scared of needles. I wish I could see the blood flowing through my veins.
blood runs through my veins, reminding me that i’m not done with the day’s work. i look into the sky and im blinding my the sun, the clouds, the shimmering blueness of the sky. It makes me forget why I’m here in the first place. It’s a reminder to take my time. I squeeze my arms, trying to squeeze out the cold, trying to make my veins stop in place, to stop time from moving at all. It doesn;t work. I look back down at the fields. The rows and rows of plants to be. The veins of the earth.
There is no blood that runs, when walking is all that it takes for life to pass you by. Let the arteries of life be your road. And the wonder what this phrase may mean be an addition to your merryment.
I feel my blood pumping through my veins and I wonder how you could ever take a needle and stick it into your skin, filling yourself with death. Release I’m sure, great fun I’m sure, but what will become of your brain? What will ever become of you? I can’t watch this any longer.
The blood coursing through my veins is as dead as this cliche. It’s rotten, filled with puss and exogenous ligands. The veins are brittle, my heart is cold and my mind is small. I roam the world forever searching for the culminating experience. I am seeking that which cannot be found; I am after that which cannot be sought.
The blood was pulsating through my veins with a burning velocity as I saw the seen unfold. The past had told me about what I was witnessing, and it was a very planned event, but there was nothing more frustrating than having your destiny decided for you. I watched as everything that I could have imagined to go wrong did.
Veins again? I guess this site has been forgotten, delitrius of the ever expanding internet. Some sites must be sacrificed, no matter how great. Farewell (I guess) oneword.com. Its five minutes of fame and afterglow from an NPR mention is, alas, appears to be over.
He cut is wrist hoping to hit the biggest vein. He had never intended for things to get this out of control, but he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t go back. As he wasted to die, he thought, “why did I let her go?”
My veins feel like they might pop. He is leaving, with no warning and no remorse. He doesn’t care how much he hurts me or how much I feel betrayed. He is just gone and I’m so angry that I shake all over. My chest hurts like I’m going to have a heart attack. Maybe my veins will explode. Then I could die and be done with this.
I have veracuse veins on my legs. Especially in my feet. It’s kinda gross, I suppose, but I actually like them. I don’t like perfect things, I like them when they look unique, like my feet. My veins make them unique, I need them. They prove how hard I work.
In her veins there was liquid life. Life that would run in streams of red and life that would give life to those without it. She could donate it; she could give it to vampires; she could waste it. It would be nothing more than a liquid that ran. Only that, nothing more. She was surprised that she could live with that.
i have noticed those tiny spider veins creeping onto my legs in recent months. for someone who has been involved with excercize most of my life and was, for years, the smallest in her class…
it wanst even a complete thought but oh well here ya go!
My veins beat slowly underneath my skin, passing the blood along. I’m almost positive he can hear my heartbeat as my blood flows. As he gets closer my pulse quickens. I don’t know what to do. Do I run? Do I face him? As he finally reaches me he also makes my decision for me, grabs me, and kisses me passionately.
They are not beautiful, with the greenish blue tinge and the criss cross under my skin. Yet they keep me alive and sometimes I hate them for it. Sometimes I just want them out. Even when I try to cut them, something holds me back. My veins are here to stay.
The race through me like something that I can’t touch, only see, only feel. Sometimes they want to pop out but never do, never can. They are the little vessels through which my vitality comes and yet sometimes I wish they weren’t there. Also, it is hard to spell.
oh my my what a word. what a junkie wouldn’t give for some…how useful they are. carrying all your blood for ya and all…one time I saw a gross looking artery in a can of cat food.
“I was trying to cut my jugular vein but I missed, but I’m pretty sure that’s not a vein and it is not on the side of my neck where my mole used to be.”
veins in my leg. veins are a good thing. i’m getting them removed though. they take this place, on the inside of my right calf, and they stare at me. large and uninviting. they make me hate my legs. i hate my legs. every summer throughout highschool, i would be so scared to walk up stairs. to sit. i would place my left leg in such a way to hide them. this has to end. it has just helped me feel more insecure. i dont want to feel that way anymore. i want to be proud of my body. im getting them lasered off. i want to feel confident. i want to feel happy.
tubes that blood goes thrtough. hemo the magnificent, blue and red, chicken lo mein, eva freaking out, broken wrists, rich weird laughter can’t think ah no time ummm
The veins in his head were popping out while his face turned a bright red. He was so angry, but she couldn’t understand why. She apologized for wrecking the car. Maybe it was the tow truck driver incident that set him off. She would never know. he dropped dead.
I’m so pale I can see the purple veins running through my chest, like a secret map leading to my heart
She was like the blood running through my veins. I needed her. I needed her to survive.
And when she wasn’t there, I felt empty and dry…like at any moment I would cease to exist.
Where have you gone, my precious Amelia?
sometimes i think that veins are very much like the highway system. there are things going and coming forward and backward. no blood. thats the good thing about it. no blood. the traffic sometimes moves slow, like a clogged artery. you get trucks stalled. sometimes tow trucks. sometimes then there are tow trucks taht pick up those tow trucks, which is one of the most miraculous things that you can imagine seeing in your lifetime. thank God i have been at the wheel to see such things. i am very proud of the fact.
I’m talking red, red love and green, green envy and blue, blue moods and golden intentions and yellow cowardice and rose-shaded expectations and white, white fire and black, black night runs through these veins.
With the blood I hear cousing through my veins, I continue on my way. My destination grows ever nearer, and I grow ever more ready to face my fate. If but one step in his plan falls out of place, I will be ready to strike. And strike I will.
The nurse says my viens are very small, smaller than normal. She says if I ever decide to give blood at the bloodmobile, they’d tear my arm up something awful and I’d get horrible bruses.
I already wrote about veins.
This is so goddamn boring.
Instead I think I’ll write about coffee and how my addiction has incessantly been taking over my life.
No, I’ve decided this website is stupid and will not visit again.
cheers
thick long cavities
thumping in a serpent like saunter
constricting my limbs and shaking my belly
the blood fills my organs with the life
the one I just swallowed away
The blood in your veins boils with pretension. Why do so many dye their hair blonde? What is the fascination with yellow hair. Brown, now there’s a color. Red, passionate.
The blood runs through them, and the blood is red. But not unless you are a royalty, in that case it’s blue, and blue is the sky and white are the clouds.
But when it’s night it’s dark. So it’s time to go home.
blood.red.flowing.its about life or dead.human being.animals.living creatures.who doesnt have?
your legs! your legs! that’s all they could say. all I could think of. varicose? at my age? shouldn’t have worn the shorts – that all I kept thinking. But it was going to get out some day – it was inevitable.
The veins on his forehead stood out, bulging, throbbing. His face became redder and redder.
“What in the hell do you think you are doing? he roared.
“I am doing what you told me to, daddy,” she cringed in terror. “Please daddy. You told me to get the rocks out of the tires.”
“I didn’t tell you to use an ice pick.”
purpley kind of freakish things that we need but are gross, like politics kind of they keep moving toward somethin old bikini ladies
My veins are very small. I found this out by going to the Red Cross to donate blood for my upcoming surgery. I was ecstatic to find this out. I am terribly scared of needles. I wish I could see the blood flowing through my veins.
blood runs through my veins, reminding me that i’m not done with the day’s work. i look into the sky and im blinding my the sun, the clouds, the shimmering blueness of the sky. It makes me forget why I’m here in the first place. It’s a reminder to take my time. I squeeze my arms, trying to squeeze out the cold, trying to make my veins stop in place, to stop time from moving at all. It doesn;t work. I look back down at the fields. The rows and rows of plants to be. The veins of the earth.
There is no blood that runs, when walking is all that it takes for life to pass you by. Let the arteries of life be your road. And the wonder what this phrase may mean be an addition to your merryment.
I feel my blood pumping through my veins and I wonder how you could ever take a needle and stick it into your skin, filling yourself with death. Release I’m sure, great fun I’m sure, but what will become of your brain? What will ever become of you? I can’t watch this any longer.
The blood coursing through my veins is as dead as this cliche. It’s rotten, filled with puss and exogenous ligands. The veins are brittle, my heart is cold and my mind is small. I roam the world forever searching for the culminating experience. I am seeking that which cannot be found; I am after that which cannot be sought.
well the first thought is HIM vampire heart – song. :D because there are words about blood running throught his veins.
happy sad wonder sing dig fan study
The veins in my hands and arms stand out when I’m tired, when I need water. They are straining to bind me together as I push for more.
The blood was pulsating through my veins with a burning velocity as I saw the seen unfold. The past had told me about what I was witnessing, and it was a very planned event, but there was nothing more frustrating than having your destiny decided for you. I watched as everything that I could have imagined to go wrong did.
Veins again? I guess this site has been forgotten, delitrius of the ever expanding internet. Some sites must be sacrificed, no matter how great. Farewell (I guess) oneword.com. Its five minutes of fame and afterglow from an NPR mention is, alas, appears to be over.
He cut is wrist hoping to hit the biggest vein. He had never intended for things to get this out of control, but he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t go back. As he wasted to die, he thought, “why did I let her go?”
blood flows through veins. Veines are necesary to stay alive. They are full of blood. Full of capilarie.
through your body supply life and sustaniance to your body our lifeline without them we would be no where possibly the most crucial part of our body
My veins feel like they might pop. He is leaving, with no warning and no remorse. He doesn’t care how much he hurts me or how much I feel betrayed. He is just gone and I’m so angry that I shake all over. My chest hurts like I’m going to have a heart attack. Maybe my veins will explode. Then I could die and be done with this.
I have veracuse veins on my legs. Especially in my feet. It’s kinda gross, I suppose, but I actually like them. I don’t like perfect things, I like them when they look unique, like my feet. My veins make them unique, I need them. They prove how hard I work.
In her veins there was liquid life. Life that would run in streams of red and life that would give life to those without it. She could donate it; she could give it to vampires; she could waste it. It would be nothing more than a liquid that ran. Only that, nothing more. She was surprised that she could live with that.
i have noticed those tiny spider veins creeping onto my legs in recent months. for someone who has been involved with excercize most of my life and was, for years, the smallest in her class…
it wanst even a complete thought but oh well here ya go!
My veins beat slowly underneath my skin, passing the blood along. I’m almost positive he can hear my heartbeat as my blood flows. As he gets closer my pulse quickens. I don’t know what to do. Do I run? Do I face him? As he finally reaches me he also makes my decision for me, grabs me, and kisses me passionately.
They are not beautiful, with the greenish blue tinge and the criss cross under my skin. Yet they keep me alive and sometimes I hate them for it. Sometimes I just want them out. Even when I try to cut them, something holds me back. My veins are here to stay.
The race through me like something that I can’t touch, only see, only feel. Sometimes they want to pop out but never do, never can. They are the little vessels through which my vitality comes and yet sometimes I wish they weren’t there. Also, it is hard to spell.
oh my my what a word. what a junkie wouldn’t give for some…how useful they are. carrying all your blood for ya and all…one time I saw a gross looking artery in a can of cat food.
“I was trying to cut my jugular vein but I missed, but I’m pretty sure that’s not a vein and it is not on the side of my neck where my mole used to be.”
veins in my leg. veins are a good thing. i’m getting them removed though. they take this place, on the inside of my right calf, and they stare at me. large and uninviting. they make me hate my legs. i hate my legs. every summer throughout highschool, i would be so scared to walk up stairs. to sit. i would place my left leg in such a way to hide them. this has to end. it has just helped me feel more insecure. i dont want to feel that way anymore. i want to be proud of my body. im getting them lasered off. i want to feel confident. i want to feel happy.
tubes that blood goes thrtough. hemo the magnificent, blue and red, chicken lo mein, eva freaking out, broken wrists, rich weird laughter can’t think ah no time ummm
through veins
screams
love drugs intelligence
sex fear life
dreams