I once had a cat named Velvet. She ate nothing but sunflower seeds. One day when I came back from work, Velvet was nowhere to be seen… I was worried, so I called my neighbor Mrs. Waverly. She came over right away, but she looked nervous. I
Is amazing! I had a velvet dress one, well not all velvet, just velvet cuffs and collars. I remember we’d see someone in velour and someone would go, ‘what is this? velvet!
Velvet is the name of a doll I loved as a child. She had long blonde “growing” hair.” I had her cousin “Mia.” Velvet also reminds me of horses but I’m not sure why.
I was sitting on a velvet chair eating a red velvet cupcake. It’s funny how there’s such a correlation between the soft feel of velvet and the delicious taste of red velvet… it’s nice.
I love the way chocolate tastes. It’s like a simple sweet gift born the the womb of angels. It’s smoother than velvet, and more necessary to me than life itself. Chocolate is the sweet fuzzy fabric of my life.
So she said to me, “What’s that you’re wearing? I don’t quite recognise the texture of it, nor does it seem to be made out of anything remotely alive.” I just shrugged, and inched myself away from her ostentatious fur coat, made out of more animals than I had seen in my lifetime.
i hate this word, it makes me feel stuffy, and itchy. it reminds me of velcro, so its almost uncomfortable. idk, i have a personal vendetta towards this word. VELVET DIE. haha jk, you cant die.
her skin was as soft as velvet.. I shouldn’t be thinking this, mainly because of the sinful nature of it all… Should I be enjoying the touch of a woman? No, it’s much too… erotic. If my family knew they’d disown me. The feeling of her warm breath on my neck was almost as soft as her tender touch. I knew I’d have to get out of there. This was a life I was not ready for- or a life I was ready to admit to being a part of.
red and yellow and orange and blue. I heard there’s a velvet cake or some shit but I’ve never had.I feel so left out some times. Fuck my life. Nah chill
I’m graduating!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yeah
velvet cake is delicious,,,,,velvet pants are sexy…velvet reminds me of a cheetah or a puma…velvet is like purple grapes…velvet feels good…velvet is nice….velvet feels sexy…velvet is a horse name…velvet is power…velvet feels good at skin….velvet is way a crocth feels…velvet skin
There was a little girl who used to live below my apartment, her name was Velvet. Her parents were successful – doctors or something. I wonder now why the even lived there; in the shady part of town. We would play together as kids, but the class gap was clear between us. She was well off and we were far from it. All we had in common was that apartment building.
As I was sitting on the soft, welcoming couch, I softly moved my arm toward the head rest. As I did so, the velvet material gave me a nice touch, as though an animal caressing against my arm.
He couldn’t stand the brush of velvet his fingers brushed, that his fingers always brushed when he held her. The velvet remained the constant reminder of all he loathed within her, within him: the terrible lies that hung between them, the hatred slumbering beneath their touch.
i hated the velvet dress my mother laid on my bed for me. i stood for everything i hated. my childhood, her control, and the death of the one person who could have saved me.
When I see the word velvet, I automatically think of crushed velvet dresses and how that was the worst fashion statement ever. The velvet in food is much better. Velvet cake has a much better texture than a velvet dress.
So soft, so flush to me. Your car seats were never like this. The interior was weathered, the interior sucked. You told me to take my shoes off the seat before I scuffed the leather. Fuck you. Fuck you and your precious, decade-old leather.
When I think of velvet I think automatically of George from Scienfeld, He loved velvet, I also think of the velveteen rabbit, so if George were a velveteen rabbit that would be odd, very very odd
Bob shut the door and went to the closet. It wasn’t very wide but it was deep so I couldn’t see what he was doing. He bent over and then stepped out; he was wearing dark green velvet skin-tight slacks with no shirt. He reached back into the closet and grabbed a green feather boa. I knew that the Clam was a rock club but I had no idea that the Accountant at my office was a glam rocker and the people that I heard yelling out front were calling for him.
My hand stroked the bedspread, luxuriating in the soft pile that moved beneath my fingers. It was amazingly multicolored, a quilt of many pieces that told the tale of so many other garments that had come before.
Her velvet dress slipped to the ground in one soft, swift movement. She looked up in time to catch a look of surprise on his face upon seeing her long, dark scar.
velvet sucks. OOH! a timer i didnt know it had that life alert alert that your life iover. your dying. my little lover make it blue your hair cause its gray.
The velvet bunny was rubbing against my cheek as I sank deeper into oblivian. I did not wake from my nightmare until mid morning of the next day, what I dreamed, i could not remember.
i dont know what a velvet is…. isnt it a kind of lugagge? ohhh no its where you keep your clothes? dammmn i dont remember, maybe i lost my memory due to weed or to the smash the floor gave me when i was drunk
i already had this word. i want something more exciting in my life. Something adventurous. Like cliff diving or surfing. Maybe even knitting. anything but velvet.
oooh the cream was so velvety. it reminded me of the time that i had the vevlet dress that I always wore at christmas time. Fake velvet of course but it was maroon and soft. I couldn’t help but pet it. It was gorgeous. At least to a 4 year old’s eyes. I didn’t know what velvet really was at that time but I thought it was the classiest prettiest thing known to man.
sickly sweet
and it sticks
it hurts my arms
my legs
i burn
with fear
it’s not soft
it scratches.
i want to throw up
i want to cry
i want to cut myself
i want to laugh
i want to sing
i want to yell
but how you could
hurt someone
so small so beautiful
your own child is beyond me.
Velvet. What a God awful material. It reminded her of bad wedding dresses and awkward elementary school pictures. It was just wrong. Like a groom wearing a hat to his own wedding. He asked her again, “So, what do you think?” She looked at his velvet suit, forced a smile and said, “It’s perfect.”
I once had a cat named Velvet. She ate nothing but sunflower seeds. One day when I came back from work, Velvet was nowhere to be seen… I was worried, so I called my neighbor Mrs. Waverly. She came over right away, but she looked nervous. I
soft and lovely. a luxury i could afford but never had.
reminds me of you.
you bought my love, but never appreciated or realized the value.
Velvet is cool. I once had a dress made out of velvet. my grandma sewed a skirt out of velvet for an ice-skating competition.
Is amazing! I had a velvet dress one, well not all velvet, just velvet cuffs and collars. I remember we’d see someone in velour and someone would go, ‘what is this? velvet!
Velvet is the name of a doll I loved as a child. She had long blonde “growing” hair.” I had her cousin “Mia.” Velvet also reminds me of horses but I’m not sure why.
I was sitting on a velvet chair eating a red velvet cupcake. It’s funny how there’s such a correlation between the soft feel of velvet and the delicious taste of red velvet… it’s nice.
I love the way chocolate tastes. It’s like a simple sweet gift born the the womb of angels. It’s smoother than velvet, and more necessary to me than life itself. Chocolate is the sweet fuzzy fabric of my life.
So she said to me, “What’s that you’re wearing? I don’t quite recognise the texture of it, nor does it seem to be made out of anything remotely alive.” I just shrugged, and inched myself away from her ostentatious fur coat, made out of more animals than I had seen in my lifetime.
i hate this word, it makes me feel stuffy, and itchy. it reminds me of velcro, so its almost uncomfortable. idk, i have a personal vendetta towards this word. VELVET DIE. haha jk, you cant die.
this color is awesome. it’s close to purple
i love it
purple
a fusion of two opposites
opposition
beauty
war
Significance
i found myself waiting in line at the post office waiting to mail a important package to a friend in chicago.
her skin was as soft as velvet.. I shouldn’t be thinking this, mainly because of the sinful nature of it all… Should I be enjoying the touch of a woman? No, it’s much too… erotic. If my family knew they’d disown me. The feeling of her warm breath on my neck was almost as soft as her tender touch. I knew I’d have to get out of there. This was a life I was not ready for- or a life I was ready to admit to being a part of.
red and yellow and orange and blue. I heard there’s a velvet cake or some shit but I’ve never had.I feel so left out some times. Fuck my life. Nah chill
I’m graduating!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yeah
velvet cake is delicious,,,,,velvet pants are sexy…velvet reminds me of a cheetah or a puma…velvet is like purple grapes…velvet feels good…velvet is nice….velvet feels sexy…velvet is a horse name…velvet is power…velvet feels good at skin….velvet is way a crocth feels…velvet skin
There was a little girl who used to live below my apartment, her name was Velvet. Her parents were successful – doctors or something. I wonder now why the even lived there; in the shady part of town. We would play together as kids, but the class gap was clear between us. She was well off and we were far from it. All we had in common was that apartment building.
As I was sitting on the soft, welcoming couch, I softly moved my arm toward the head rest. As I did so, the velvet material gave me a nice touch, as though an animal caressing against my arm.
He couldn’t stand the brush of velvet his fingers brushed, that his fingers always brushed when he held her. The velvet remained the constant reminder of all he loathed within her, within him: the terrible lies that hung between them, the hatred slumbering beneath their touch.
i hated the velvet dress my mother laid on my bed for me. i stood for everything i hated. my childhood, her control, and the death of the one person who could have saved me.
When I see the word velvet, I automatically think of crushed velvet dresses and how that was the worst fashion statement ever. The velvet in food is much better. Velvet cake has a much better texture than a velvet dress.
So soft, so flush to me. Your car seats were never like this. The interior was weathered, the interior sucked. You told me to take my shoes off the seat before I scuffed the leather. Fuck you. Fuck you and your precious, decade-old leather.
When I think of velvet I think automatically of George from Scienfeld, He loved velvet, I also think of the velveteen rabbit, so if George were a velveteen rabbit that would be odd, very very odd
Bob shut the door and went to the closet. It wasn’t very wide but it was deep so I couldn’t see what he was doing. He bent over and then stepped out; he was wearing dark green velvet skin-tight slacks with no shirt. He reached back into the closet and grabbed a green feather boa. I knew that the Clam was a rock club but I had no idea that the Accountant at my office was a glam rocker and the people that I heard yelling out front were calling for him.
His velvet skin brushed against hers as he rain his hand through her long, silky hair. The tanged bedsheets rustled. “Goodnight,” he whispered.
My hand stroked the bedspread, luxuriating in the soft pile that moved beneath my fingers. It was amazingly multicolored, a quilt of many pieces that told the tale of so many other garments that had come before.
Her velvet dress slipped to the ground in one soft, swift movement. She looked up in time to catch a look of surprise on his face upon seeing her long, dark scar.
CAKE
velvet sucks. OOH! a timer i didnt know it had that life alert alert that your life iover. your dying. my little lover make it blue your hair cause its gray.
Black velvet… heavy and sexual, but in a different way than silk… Oppressive almost… Suffocatingly sexual
soft short hairs stand across my body, something moves between the sheets, we are arms legs limbs falling into creases that swallow bodies whole.
The velvet bunny was rubbing against my cheek as I sank deeper into oblivian. I did not wake from my nightmare until mid morning of the next day, what I dreamed, i could not remember.
velvet. unexciting. uninviting. too soft, too smooth. give me roughness, give me pain.
velveteen rabbits, deep red color. soft against your skin, soothing, caressing. velvet.
i dont know what a velvet is…. isnt it a kind of lugagge? ohhh no its where you keep your clothes? dammmn i dont remember, maybe i lost my memory due to weed or to the smash the floor gave me when i was drunk
i already had this word. i want something more exciting in my life. Something adventurous. Like cliff diving or surfing. Maybe even knitting. anything but velvet.
Dark and deep and soft, with lights that glimmer in the weave. It only looks like velvet when you look up, really it goes on forever.
oooh the cream was so velvety. it reminded me of the time that i had the vevlet dress that I always wore at christmas time. Fake velvet of course but it was maroon and soft. I couldn’t help but pet it. It was gorgeous. At least to a 4 year old’s eyes. I didn’t know what velvet really was at that time but I thought it was the classiest prettiest thing known to man.
sickly sweet
and it sticks
it hurts my arms
my legs
i burn
with fear
it’s not soft
it scratches.
i want to throw up
i want to cry
i want to cut myself
i want to laugh
i want to sing
i want to yell
but how you could
hurt someone
so small so beautiful
your own child is beyond me.
60s music purple and rebellious
loud woman drapped in blue crushed from head to toe
cape in red santa?
underground
His voice was crushed velvet against the storm in her head.
“I loved you,” he murmured, tracing circles around her wrist with his lips. “I always did.”
She blinked hard. The storm surged inside her head, trickling out of her eyes. He caught a tear on one finger.
“I always will,” he promised, so tenderly it burned.
Velvet had never hurt so much.
Velvet. What a God awful material. It reminded her of bad wedding dresses and awkward elementary school pictures. It was just wrong. Like a groom wearing a hat to his own wedding. He asked her again, “So, what do you think?” She looked at his velvet suit, forced a smile and said, “It’s perfect.”