Dropped. Four years ago I was…dropped…eight hours away from home. Dropped in a blizzard. On this line…the line that separates Illinois from Wisconsin from Iowa. That separated sanity from insanity. Dropped into this new world and not a bit brave. Dropped, lonely. Dropped scared. Dropped like a twenty-four year old baby into a world no longer comfortable or warm or safe….screaming, long, loud cries that let you know I was alive and had loud lungs…volume I didn’t know I had. I kicked at you. I kicked a lot. Disagreeable. Colicky, maybe. Temper. Red. Flushed from screaming. Until I felt I would drown, dropped, buried under snow–suffocate. Suffocated.
She drug the mallet across the floor with an everlasting grace and slammed it on my toes. I convulsed as I let out a shrieking piercing enough to shatter mirrors. With a smile on her face she dropped the keys to my chains down the well, smiling all the while. I’ll never get out.
My heart dropped when I found out you were gone. That’s the only way I can explain whatever I felt in that very moment. You just dropped off of the face of the earth, just like that.
Drop – Drop – Drop – The rain outside fell from the roof as I watched from the window. “I WANNA GO OUTSIDE” I screamed to no one in particular. “Go ahead.” answers my mom. And just like that, I was out the door, in the driveway, and running in big circles. “I LOVE RAIN!!”
“Drop it, John,” he said.
“No, I can’t,” I was getting angry, but his voice terrified me.
“Just drop it. What’s the worst that can happen? It’s only a baby.”
“No!”
But the voices wouldn’t stop.
At the drop of a hat, I would sacrifice my own life for him. He was my lover. My other half. I couldn’t continue without him. “Can I sacrifice my life to bring him back;” I asked God. He died to soon. I wanted forever. Can I please drop everything going on in my life for him? I love him. At the drop of a hat, I will die for him to live again. At the drop of a hat.
Into me and out of me. Reality is pulling, of course. There is a small cake on the table. “Eat me.” But I know this story too well. In the rabbit hole you don’t drink the kool-aid (or tea, rather) that the mad men offer you. The only way out is deeper through the Horrorland that dares take the name of wonder.
The room was silent, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe he shouldn’t have used those words exactly, but it was too late now. She was fuming. He could tell by the way her face was stone still, all except her eyes, which were fire.
as I observe the sky from my room’s small window
the world is overlayed with lines that can barely be seen
except if you focus with your eyes on a certain point
these small lines
are drops of water
the rain
that cleanses my soul
I fell. I fell and fell. i suppose I asked for this. I should never have trusted Rebecca with that damned idea for a ‘try something you’ve never done’ day. Breakfast At Tiffany’s will be the end of me. Skydiving sucks, Eck.
i close my eyes and picture my heart,
imagining i might find some glimpse of the elusive self.
staring through eyelids flushed red
in the light, they tremble as the heart trembles;
the heart, a misdirection of inquiry.
(the mind conjures diagrams of bodies,
arteries and gristle, carefully indexed.
something in me
falls away.)
drip drip drip, they keep falling, there was no end. each drop was another poisoned thought pouring out of her insecure mind. they burned a path down her cheek, branding a strong stinging sensation that felt like the whip of his words clashing against her. her face was heating up and fire inside her was silently raging. there was no storm that could put it out.
drip drip drip
You know the situation is untenable by the singular and sudden tang of bile flooding your mouth, by the rapid escalation in altitude of your heart toward your larynx, and by the chilled mental whoosh of sudden clarity. Adrenaline is nature’s drug of choice when the floor drops out from underneath, transforming falls into dives on the way down.
She dropped her teacup when the news finally registered in her mind.
The white and gold-ornamented teacup broke apart, its pieces scattering on the marble floor. The golden tea was spilled everywhere, its smell permeating in the air; the wide room smelled like a fresh of air mixed with tea.
The girl stood in the middle of the room, her face void of emotion, although she was screaming on the inside. Blood stained her feet, the teacup pieces piercing through her skin and creating scars. It should have felt painful, but she did not feel anything; her body was numb.
The news that she had just overheard from the other side of the walls was enough to leave her catatonic for the next few hours as she tried to make sense of her situation. Her heart had skipped a beat and her tear rolled down her cheek quietly albeit she attempted to try not to cry by biting down her lips. Everything in her life was going down, she could feel it in her bones.
The lady will drop the cookies if she does not hold them tight. If the cookies drop, then she will not have anything to bring to the party. She can drop off the cookies to the kids.
Falling is easy, it’s the getting back up that’s hard. I’m broken, of course. I’ve always been broken. I know this, you know this, my therapist knows this. The goal is to put myself back together, to pick myself up. I don’t know where I am but I know how I got here. I fell. There’s a reason they call it the pit of despair. I’ve been down here for awhile, but I think I’ve stopped clawing at the walls like a check mark count of the days I’ve been here and I’ve started dismantling the walls to build a way out. Maybe I’ll get there, eventually. It’s starting to get brighter. maybe I’m on my way to the surface
raindrop
drop what you are doing
drop of a hat
my stomach dropped to my feet
when he left my heart dropped
the heart monitor dropped causing everybody else’s to do the same
drop this beat
djdhidhgihi
“Drop those clothes,” he said. “I want to see if I am imaginng you as beautiful with your clothes, as what I think you would look like naked under those clothes.”
Drop down next to me. Plunge into this deep sea of miracles and take flight int to the night. Here we can breathe again, dream again, live again. Fear not as the ones that hold us down are the ones that bring us higher.
I dropped my pencil on the ground. Clusmy me.. Now where could it be?
I look underneath the couch but it isn’t there. But I find my button that says “Freedom should be free.”
if you were to go about it backwards and
drop
not into charted territory, not into those lands where they drew maps long before your last named ancestors were born
just drop into that fuzzy grass and roots and melting meddling middle
those drops of trees and tresses those drops of
[ ]
the pen
and pick the pencil
i’m afraid it’s vanity
that keeps my handwriting
strewn about the books
i buy each time and leave
each time
perhaps we
see ourselves
in the loops and curls
of each confession
but sometimes it’s still unclear whether
i’m saying veggies
or leggies
and that shit gets
weird on a grocery list
The dream always ended the same way, he was pushed over the cliff and was about to face a long drop when he woke up, sweating, feeling as if he had just fallen straight into bed. The dreams had been getting stronger, though, and he started noticing strange things, like scratches in his ceiling that fit his handprints, and the appearance of the cliff in his dream everywhere, from tampon commercials to city murals. It was going to happen someday soon, he knew, but he hoped he would survive it.
Drip. Drip. Drop. Drop. Plop, drip, drop. The faucet just wouldn’t shut the fuck up. Drip drop drop drip. I could fix it. But then who the hell would I be? The guy who’s actions are dictated by all these outside forces? No. Fuck that faucet. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drop…
I don’t get the shakes. I know that’s the classic pre-drop condition, referenced as far back as Heinlein, but I’m still as a rock the whole time I’m in my capsule. Every time, I know exactly what I’m going to do, and that’s peaceful.
Not one drop of rum was left in the bottle, and angrily, Lars flung it against the wall, where it exploded into a starburst of crystalline stars. As he staggered to his feet, fuming and smelling like stale chips and alcohol, Simone jumped up to stop him from storming to the kitchen to get a refill of anything that could draw him further into the nether regions of intoxication.
I want to care, but something inside me broke. So I let it all drop, and the pieces, so many of them, fall and land where they may. What’s it to me anyway.
Dropped. Four years ago I was…dropped…eight hours away from home. Dropped in a blizzard. On this line…the line that separates Illinois from Wisconsin from Iowa. That separated sanity from insanity. Dropped into this new world and not a bit brave. Dropped, lonely. Dropped scared. Dropped like a twenty-four year old baby into a world no longer comfortable or warm or safe….screaming, long, loud cries that let you know I was alive and had loud lungs…volume I didn’t know I had. I kicked at you. I kicked a lot. Disagreeable. Colicky, maybe. Temper. Red. Flushed from screaming. Until I felt I would drown, dropped, buried under snow–suffocate. Suffocated.
April’s stunt group in cheer always drops her. I’m concerned for her well-being. She’s going to break if they drop her again.
She drug the mallet across the floor with an everlasting grace and slammed it on my toes. I convulsed as I let out a shrieking piercing enough to shatter mirrors. With a smile on her face she dropped the keys to my chains down the well, smiling all the while. I’ll never get out.
My heart dropped when I found out you were gone. That’s the only way I can explain whatever I felt in that very moment. You just dropped off of the face of the earth, just like that.
Drop – Drop – Drop – The rain outside fell from the roof as I watched from the window. “I WANNA GO OUTSIDE” I screamed to no one in particular. “Go ahead.” answers my mom. And just like that, I was out the door, in the driveway, and running in big circles. “I LOVE RAIN!!”
the bass.
wah wah weew wah wah wah wah waaaaaah booboobewdew wop wop wah skuduhbuhbuhuhu wop woooo wahh wah wahh wah
“Drop it, John,” he said.
“No, I can’t,” I was getting angry, but his voice terrified me.
“Just drop it. What’s the worst that can happen? It’s only a baby.”
“No!”
But the voices wouldn’t stop.
At the drop of a hat, I would sacrifice my own life for him. He was my lover. My other half. I couldn’t continue without him. “Can I sacrifice my life to bring him back;” I asked God. He died to soon. I wanted forever. Can I please drop everything going on in my life for him? I love him. At the drop of a hat, I will die for him to live again. At the drop of a hat.
when the bass drops you better get on the floor because I don’t know it could probably be a bomb or something
I mean safety first and all
tbh I really don’t know what to write here soooooo
How was your day, love chop? <3
Into me and out of me. Reality is pulling, of course. There is a small cake on the table. “Eat me.” But I know this story too well. In the rabbit hole you don’t drink the kool-aid (or tea, rather) that the mad men offer you. The only way out is deeper through the Horrorland that dares take the name of wonder.
rain. toothpaste. tear drops. drop the bass. new years – the ball drop.
The room was silent, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe he shouldn’t have used those words exactly, but it was too late now. She was fuming. He could tell by the way her face was stone still, all except her eyes, which were fire.
as I observe the sky from my room’s small window
the world is overlayed with lines that can barely be seen
except if you focus with your eyes on a certain point
these small lines
are drops of water
the rain
that cleanses my soul
she dropped her scarf. it floating and landed in an ‘S’. i called out to her. she seemed a tad annoyed. it took me a moment to realize why.
drop me bad once
and I’ll squish and swing you twice.
heartbreak hurts
but ignorance is a double shot
To fall down at a fast speed, to move at an intense movement. To rapidly go downwards at a fast pace, and to stop suddenly.
I dropped my coffee mug. Everything is wet now. Such a pity!
I fell. I fell and fell. i suppose I asked for this. I should never have trusted Rebecca with that damned idea for a ‘try something you’ve never done’ day. Breakfast At Tiffany’s will be the end of me. Skydiving sucks, Eck.
i close my eyes and picture my heart,
imagining i might find some glimpse of the elusive self.
staring through eyelids flushed red
in the light, they tremble as the heart trembles;
the heart, a misdirection of inquiry.
(the mind conjures diagrams of bodies,
arteries and gristle, carefully indexed.
something in me
falls away.)
drip drip drip, they keep falling, there was no end. each drop was another poisoned thought pouring out of her insecure mind. they burned a path down her cheek, branding a strong stinging sensation that felt like the whip of his words clashing against her. her face was heating up and fire inside her was silently raging. there was no storm that could put it out.
drip drip drip
You know the situation is untenable by the singular and sudden tang of bile flooding your mouth, by the rapid escalation in altitude of your heart toward your larynx, and by the chilled mental whoosh of sudden clarity. Adrenaline is nature’s drug of choice when the floor drops out from underneath, transforming falls into dives on the way down.
She dropped her teacup when the news finally registered in her mind.
The white and gold-ornamented teacup broke apart, its pieces scattering on the marble floor. The golden tea was spilled everywhere, its smell permeating in the air; the wide room smelled like a fresh of air mixed with tea.
The girl stood in the middle of the room, her face void of emotion, although she was screaming on the inside. Blood stained her feet, the teacup pieces piercing through her skin and creating scars. It should have felt painful, but she did not feel anything; her body was numb.
The news that she had just overheard from the other side of the walls was enough to leave her catatonic for the next few hours as she tried to make sense of her situation. Her heart had skipped a beat and her tear rolled down her cheek quietly albeit she attempted to try not to cry by biting down her lips. Everything in her life was going down, she could feel it in her bones.
Drop unnecessary mental baggage. Drop ungodly behavior and thoughts
The lady will drop the cookies if she does not hold them tight. If the cookies drop, then she will not have anything to bring to the party. She can drop off the cookies to the kids.
Falling is easy, it’s the getting back up that’s hard. I’m broken, of course. I’ve always been broken. I know this, you know this, my therapist knows this. The goal is to put myself back together, to pick myself up. I don’t know where I am but I know how I got here. I fell. There’s a reason they call it the pit of despair. I’ve been down here for awhile, but I think I’ve stopped clawing at the walls like a check mark count of the days I’ve been here and I’ve started dismantling the walls to build a way out. Maybe I’ll get there, eventually. It’s starting to get brighter. maybe I’m on my way to the surface
raindrop
drop what you are doing
drop of a hat
my stomach dropped to my feet
when he left my heart dropped
the heart monitor dropped causing everybody else’s to do the same
drop this beat
djdhidhgihi
n/a
loose
fall
stop
forget
downward
He fell downward
“Drop those clothes,” he said. “I want to see if I am imaginng you as beautiful with your clothes, as what I think you would look like naked under those clothes.”
Drop down next to me. Plunge into this deep sea of miracles and take flight int to the night. Here we can breathe again, dream again, live again. Fear not as the ones that hold us down are the ones that bring us higher.
I dropped my pencil on the ground. Clusmy me.. Now where could it be?
I look underneath the couch but it isn’t there. But I find my button that says “Freedom should be free.”
if you were to go about it backwards and
drop
not into charted territory, not into those lands where they drew maps long before your last named ancestors were born
just drop into that fuzzy grass and roots and melting meddling middle
those drops of trees and tresses those drops of
[ ]
the pen
and pick the pencil
i’m afraid it’s vanity
that keeps my handwriting
strewn about the books
i buy each time and leave
each time
perhaps we
see ourselves
in the loops and curls
of each confession
but sometimes it’s still unclear whether
i’m saying veggies
or leggies
and that shit gets
weird on a grocery list
The dream always ended the same way, he was pushed over the cliff and was about to face a long drop when he woke up, sweating, feeling as if he had just fallen straight into bed. The dreams had been getting stronger, though, and he started noticing strange things, like scratches in his ceiling that fit his handprints, and the appearance of the cliff in his dream everywhere, from tampon commercials to city murals. It was going to happen someday soon, he knew, but he hoped he would survive it.
Drip. Drip. Drop. Drop. Plop, drip, drop. The faucet just wouldn’t shut the fuck up. Drip drop drop drip. I could fix it. But then who the hell would I be? The guy who’s actions are dictated by all these outside forces? No. Fuck that faucet. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drop…
drop by drop, the water coursed through small canals of rock weathered by ages of gentle loving breezes and the soft caress of rain.
I don’t get the shakes. I know that’s the classic pre-drop condition, referenced as far back as Heinlein, but I’m still as a rock the whole time I’m in my capsule. Every time, I know exactly what I’m going to do, and that’s peaceful.
Not one drop of rum was left in the bottle, and angrily, Lars flung it against the wall, where it exploded into a starburst of crystalline stars. As he staggered to his feet, fuming and smelling like stale chips and alcohol, Simone jumped up to stop him from storming to the kitchen to get a refill of anything that could draw him further into the nether regions of intoxication.
I keep my eyes closed until just before the drop. That’s the only way to ride a roller-coaster.
I want to care, but something inside me broke. So I let it all drop, and the pieces, so many of them, fall and land where they may. What’s it to me anyway.