In Munich he showed me his blue veins. I was in awe. They ran along his hands in lovely neat rows. I touched them and he smiled. He had such pale hands with beautiful finger nails. I saw a few of his battle scars along his wrist and right thumb, which amazed me.
not sure what to write about veins. I think I’ll skip this one all together. Nothing comes to my head … I have a head ache anyway. Maybe I’ll do better tomorrow. blah
She liked veins. Not too strange, all things considered. She found homeless men out in the cold, skinny and purple underneath their ragged clothes, and she would go to them and pull their sleeves up, put her mouth to their wrists and drink.
blue blood gets me high to finally be alive in turquoise never have i felt closer to my soul and without veins it wouldn’t be possible. my last sentence is not as blue.
Blood rushing through arteries and veins to the heart of the matter; we’re all screwed anyway, we all die at the end, and our blood turns to dust and our bones to ash. so why bother? Just live and love and laugh while you still can!
She had veins in her skin, blue against the pale that had been constant. Delicate, was she, delicate in looks and personality. Frail. Just as if the simplest wound could break blood out, whether it was of mortal or emotion. She stood thee now, tears. Bleeding.
veins carry blood to the heart. arteries away from the heart. beat beat….. how many beats in a life time. unknown, who knows? it depends really on your reality, on your destiny. veins to the heart. veins carry blood, the thing we need, to live.
She didn’t like it when people touched her wrists. “My veins,” she would say, “they’re vulnerable.” She had a habit of running her hands over her wrists, protecting them.
veins are little subway systems of the body. my veins are weird. I wonder why they call them spider veins. spider webs on your legs would really creep me out. like walking in the dark and just getting caught up in a whole bunch of spider webs. no thank you for that.
The blood running through my veins is crazy. It keeps me alive. Do I want to be alive? Am I making the right decision? Will my daughter have a better life without me? I don’t know. I hope so. She is my world. I gave her the blood running through HER veins.
It trickled through her veins; the cool menthol feeling of liquor that goes straight from your stomach, rockets to your chest, and then suffused through your blood. Like an elixir. Like a poison. Perhaps the sweetest death you’ll die a thousand times over just to feel again.
When I was younger my Grandma’s arms fascinated me, the pale skin with the bright blue ribbons running down and around her luminescent self. The blue fascinated me, and it was only later in life that I learnt that they were veins, and the magical blue ribbons were actually her red blood, which sustained her and kept her next to me, living and dreaming beside me.
mouldy cheese with blood coursing though
it like marble courses.
The penultimate course sits artfully with grapes on a marble platter in the palatial eatery.
Funny how words link together in a circle.
veins are the things which we have and exist in the people who exist like fruitish flavours from pwerth esplanade and die in small individual crafted holes/ DIE DIE DIE DIE
I flew through the canyon, veins of iron ore steaking the rock walls a pallet of browns and rusts either side of me. The helicopter’e engine roared momentarily as I pushedc the machine upwards.
veins are in our body body so are arteries and food and poop haha our bodies are full of poop of course our bodies are no longer full of poop once we poop it out and throw it at some1 or just statr talking shit
Your veins carry blood. When you take sleeping pills, you feel like you’re floating. Like you can feel the blood flowing, carrying to your heart to keep you alive. Veins are the basic needs of survival.
Vampires sucking on silver veins taking life and love and never letting go, wanting nothing but to be what they hate. Let go of tradition. No one has ever really forgotten the golden years.
I am drunk. Like always. My veins are more beer than they are blood. I am a bastard they say. They say I am full of piss and vinegar. I’m full of piss and beer. This is the only way there is to live. A little booze, four walls, and a woman now and then is all their is to live for.
They veins stuck out of the skin, raised almost like gooseflesh. The skin was pale, sallow, and if it wasn’t an indication of dehydration it was an indication of injury.
Or, in Leo’s case, both.
The blood spread from an unseen wound, seeping slowly into the trampled, dead grass around him. As Kiran approached, medical pouch pulled out, he could only hope the foliage was the only thing lacking life.
Carefully, he placed two fingers against the popping jugular at Leo’s throat.
There was a pulse.
He breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Not today,’ he told himself, and sent a silent prayer to the gods. ‘Thank you for not making it today.’
I have veins in my arms. I can’t see them but I know they’re there. The doctors often struggle to find them out. I don’t blame them. I’d rather that than them bulging through my skin.
veins are interesting. i used to have a client who had used so much heroin that the only vein they could draw blood from was in between his toes.
the rest were collapsed. crazy. i always thought a ms. heroin (or mr. heroin) usa contest would be interesting. their veins, though collapsed, are like road maps. showing you all the places their drugs have been.
blood rushing through my veins. cold, ice cold. can’t stop it. blue and red, back and forth through arteries and capillaries. you don’t know what you’re capable of until you see it out there. red and bright and horribly frightening.
ew viens like my aunt judys legs. i saw her working out one time in a one-peice, and lemme tell ya, its better if my great aunt judy at least wears sweat pants cuz ewwwww. veins are not meant to be seen. i knew a guy one who cut himself all up to examine the veins in his arm. he wanted to be a surgeon. what a wierdo.
i press my thumbs firmly into your wrists
and, almost instinctively, you wriggle your fingers
sending surges of blood up through your forearms
and replacing tranquil streams with thick, protruding rapids.
i watch intently as they swell
and i try to imagine your past;
the pumping continues as i convince myself
that this is probably
way too much life to squeeze into such a small space.
listen bluebird, your history may be sad but your arms are fantastic.
they’re absolutely mesmerizing, and you know it.
keep moving those fingers, baby, and your veins won’t be the only things exploding.
it’s something i never hesitate to remind you,
but you don’t seem to be bothered.
i am in a hospital now.
a nurse gently slips a needle into the crook of my elbow
and tells me, as if it is some sort of accomplishment,
that i have perfect veins.
fuck. i wonder what she would say about yours.
veins go through my body and what do they mean? who else has thought about them? I sure have, oh god I have oh god… I never have the courage NEVER! How many people will miss me I like to remind myself that alot will I don’t know.
Veins bulge behind my knees, disgusting, tender things, that look like old age and decay, and when I look at them I can’t help but wonder, does anyone see them but me?
the long slivers of blue flowed along her lily white arm. he couldn’t look away. they were here life blood. the life of a woman he could never have. he looked at her fiance, knowing how he had betrayed her, but unable to say anything. his love for her could not be stopped.
they hold blood, sometimes they are blue and carry blood to the heart I think, explaining the blue color, becuase the blood is not oxygen rich because it is on it’s way back to the heart to get oxygen. sometimes doctors stick needles in them
veins spill blood on the kitchen floor.
oh shit i cut myself
was that intentional?
or just a slip of the hand?
id better crlean up before the company arrives
i wouldnt want them to think i was strange
now would i?
looking behind myself into the dressing room mirror, i realized that the veins behind my knees stood out so strongly, just like my mother’s. I have my mother’s body.
Veins that bubble and burst, purple and bulging below the surface. Skin pushed up like hilly ranges, colours of the Pilbara beneath.
Feel the rainbow veins above you. All around you. There’s always something to smile about.
In Munich he showed me his blue veins. I was in awe. They ran along his hands in lovely neat rows. I touched them and he smiled. He had such pale hands with beautiful finger nails. I saw a few of his battle scars along his wrist and right thumb, which amazed me.
not sure what to write about veins. I think I’ll skip this one all together. Nothing comes to my head … I have a head ache anyway. Maybe I’ll do better tomorrow. blah
pulsing, blue stringy veins
inside you, coursing blood.
the vessel that pumps life
from deep inside your heart.
She liked veins. Not too strange, all things considered. She found homeless men out in the cold, skinny and purple underneath their ragged clothes, and she would go to them and pull their sleeves up, put her mouth to their wrists and drink.
1veins = volume encapsulating implicating navigating solution
blue blood gets me high to finally be alive in turquoise never have i felt closer to my soul and without veins it wouldn’t be possible. my last sentence is not as blue.
Blood rushing through arteries and veins to the heart of the matter; we’re all screwed anyway, we all die at the end, and our blood turns to dust and our bones to ash. so why bother? Just live and love and laugh while you still can!
She had veins in her skin, blue against the pale that had been constant. Delicate, was she, delicate in looks and personality. Frail. Just as if the simplest wound could break blood out, whether it was of mortal or emotion. She stood thee now, tears. Bleeding.
veins carry blood to the heart. arteries away from the heart. beat beat….. how many beats in a life time. unknown, who knows? it depends really on your reality, on your destiny. veins to the heart. veins carry blood, the thing we need, to live.
blood! red, gashed stabbed, ruins wasteful enterance, Macbeth, drama, ensemble, bloody unlucky really, Griggsy, harper, school, red, lioness, salmonella, bad food, unlucky
She didn’t like it when people touched her wrists. “My veins,” she would say, “they’re vulnerable.” She had a habit of running her hands over her wrists, protecting them.
veins are little subway systems of the body. my veins are weird. I wonder why they call them spider veins. spider webs on your legs would really creep me out. like walking in the dark and just getting caught up in a whole bunch of spider webs. no thank you for that.
I never knew that
what runs through my veins,
our veins,
could be so dark.
The blood running through my veins is crazy. It keeps me alive. Do I want to be alive? Am I making the right decision? Will my daughter have a better life without me? I don’t know. I hope so. She is my world. I gave her the blood running through HER veins.
I feel you running through my veins. I feel you kicking at my heart. I won’t let you do this to me any more.
It trickled through her veins; the cool menthol feeling of liquor that goes straight from your stomach, rockets to your chest, and then suffused through your blood. Like an elixir. Like a poison. Perhaps the sweetest death you’ll die a thousand times over just to feel again.
When I was younger my Grandma’s arms fascinated me, the pale skin with the bright blue ribbons running down and around her luminescent self. The blue fascinated me, and it was only later in life that I learnt that they were veins, and the magical blue ribbons were actually her red blood, which sustained her and kept her next to me, living and dreaming beside me.
mouldy cheese with blood coursing though
it like marble courses.
The penultimate course sits artfully with grapes on a marble platter in the palatial eatery.
Funny how words link together in a circle.
veins are the things which we have and exist in the people who exist like fruitish flavours from pwerth esplanade and die in small individual crafted holes/ DIE DIE DIE DIE
I flew through the canyon, veins of iron ore steaking the rock walls a pallet of browns and rusts either side of me. The helicopter’e engine roared momentarily as I pushedc the machine upwards.
veins are in our body body so are arteries and food and poop haha our bodies are full of poop of course our bodies are no longer full of poop once we poop it out and throw it at some1 or just statr talking shit
Your veins carry blood. When you take sleeping pills, you feel like you’re floating. Like you can feel the blood flowing, carrying to your heart to keep you alive. Veins are the basic needs of survival.
Vampires sucking on silver veins taking life and love and never letting go, wanting nothing but to be what they hate. Let go of tradition. No one has ever really forgotten the golden years.
I am drunk. Like always. My veins are more beer than they are blood. I am a bastard they say. They say I am full of piss and vinegar. I’m full of piss and beer. This is the only way there is to live. A little booze, four walls, and a woman now and then is all their is to live for.
They veins stuck out of the skin, raised almost like gooseflesh. The skin was pale, sallow, and if it wasn’t an indication of dehydration it was an indication of injury.
Or, in Leo’s case, both.
The blood spread from an unseen wound, seeping slowly into the trampled, dead grass around him. As Kiran approached, medical pouch pulled out, he could only hope the foliage was the only thing lacking life.
Carefully, he placed two fingers against the popping jugular at Leo’s throat.
There was a pulse.
He breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Not today,’ he told himself, and sent a silent prayer to the gods. ‘Thank you for not making it today.’
I have veins in my arms. I can’t see them but I know they’re there. The doctors often struggle to find them out. I don’t blame them. I’d rather that than them bulging through my skin.
veins are interesting. i used to have a client who had used so much heroin that the only vein they could draw blood from was in between his toes.
the rest were collapsed. crazy. i always thought a ms. heroin (or mr. heroin) usa contest would be interesting. their veins, though collapsed, are like road maps. showing you all the places their drugs have been.
blood rushing through my veins. cold, ice cold. can’t stop it. blue and red, back and forth through arteries and capillaries. you don’t know what you’re capable of until you see it out there. red and bright and horribly frightening.
ew viens like my aunt judys legs. i saw her working out one time in a one-peice, and lemme tell ya, its better if my great aunt judy at least wears sweat pants cuz ewwwww. veins are not meant to be seen. i knew a guy one who cut himself all up to examine the veins in his arm. he wanted to be a surgeon. what a wierdo.
i press my thumbs firmly into your wrists
and, almost instinctively, you wriggle your fingers
sending surges of blood up through your forearms
and replacing tranquil streams with thick, protruding rapids.
i watch intently as they swell
and i try to imagine your past;
the pumping continues as i convince myself
that this is probably
way too much life to squeeze into such a small space.
listen bluebird, your history may be sad but your arms are fantastic.
they’re absolutely mesmerizing, and you know it.
keep moving those fingers, baby, and your veins won’t be the only things exploding.
it’s something i never hesitate to remind you,
but you don’t seem to be bothered.
i am in a hospital now.
a nurse gently slips a needle into the crook of my elbow
and tells me, as if it is some sort of accomplishment,
that i have perfect veins.
fuck. i wonder what she would say about yours.
coarsing through our body with indefinite beginnings and endings. all leading to the powerhouse of our systems.
veins go through my body and what do they mean? who else has thought about them? I sure have, oh god I have oh god… I never have the courage NEVER! How many people will miss me I like to remind myself that alot will I don’t know.
something that blood goes through your body
Veins bulge behind my knees, disgusting, tender things, that look like old age and decay, and when I look at them I can’t help but wonder, does anyone see them but me?
the long slivers of blue flowed along her lily white arm. he couldn’t look away. they were here life blood. the life of a woman he could never have. he looked at her fiance, knowing how he had betrayed her, but unable to say anything. his love for her could not be stopped.
they hold blood, sometimes they are blue and carry blood to the heart I think, explaining the blue color, becuase the blood is not oxygen rich because it is on it’s way back to the heart to get oxygen. sometimes doctors stick needles in them
veins spill blood on the kitchen floor.
oh shit i cut myself
was that intentional?
or just a slip of the hand?
id better crlean up before the company arrives
i wouldnt want them to think i was strange
now would i?
looking behind myself into the dressing room mirror, i realized that the veins behind my knees stood out so strongly, just like my mother’s. I have my mother’s body.