oneword.com

the powder, lined up, white, powerful. and she sat there, next to him, wishing with all her might that he could be strong enough to hold her back. because she had no strength of her own, and she couldn’t do this any more. so sad how dependent on substances, on needing to feel intoxicated. how she had said, i can’t function sober. and cried with her head on his chest, hearing his heart beat. no i can’t do this on my own. i can’t do this on my own.

Posted By claire On 01.14.2010 @ 4:27 pm

this is used for making fences and bowls. You can use bamboo bowls for steaming food, including those yummy pancakes that you get at the chinese restaurants. I love those. With duck in them. Erm, what else can I tell you about bamboo. They use it on changing rooms and gardening programmes to screen gardens and give privacy. That’s about all i know.

Posted By Claire On 01.12.2010 @ 6:38 am

its good like strawbeary or something maby vanilla and a hot summerday, a cold icy lake over the hill and you feel the warm hand of your lover in your own. why shall you worry? flavor of live just tastes so dame good!

Posted By claire On 01.08.2010 @ 2:04 pm

and i had laughed and said incredulously, paprika? yes, paprika you said. and i shook my head at the insanity of it all. i was so willing to go halfway across the world to get you paprika flavored pringles because… because… i couldn’t quite say why, but I wanted you to love me back so badly, id bring you those paprika flavored…

Posted By claire On 01.07.2010 @ 2:49 pm

the figure is always present. It does not stop. It does not sleep. It just is. When looking at it I cannot help but smile, for its curves and shades are so much like mine, but so different. The figure

Posted By claire On 01.07.2010 @ 8:49 am

she stood amongst the confusion, perfectly still, as if made out of glass. here and there, they rushed, and as if time passed slower and slower until it almost stopped, she could not breathe any longer, her heart was in a state of confusion that mirrored the chaos around her. and yet there she stood, alive yet strangely dead, her eyes glassed with tears. break her heart, lover, eat it whole, eat it with a fork and knife.

Posted By claire On 01.06.2010 @ 1:27 am

I went to the store that day to buy new clothes after losing weight and getting fit. I saw a trencoat, highwaisted, beige with mauve silk inside. I put it on and it hugged my every curve. It was the most beautiful coat I’d ever seen and I had to place to wear it.

Posted By Claire On 01.02.2010 @ 10:34 am

I need to give someone a discreet message. I need to tell her that I love her, I wish that I could just open up to all that it is. She is beautiful, and we had to keep my first lesbian relationship a secret. I love her smell, her taste, her touch, her everything. I wish I wouldn’t have had to have been so discreet with our relationship. I love her, I love her so much. I need her in my life, everything I hate about her, included.

Posted By Claire On 12.31.2009 @ 9:53 am

Ihre Augen waren wie der Spiegel ihrer Seele. Man sah darin deutlich die Trauer und die Angst, die sie litt. Nie wieder w

Posted By Claire On 11.30.2009 @ 7:38 am

it was so transparent. her face, her expression. like a deer in headlights, she couldn’t hide her love any more. it was too painful, and he read her like a book, only, this time he never had cared. all he did was walk through her as if she were a ghost, and she wept without witnesses. if only, she thought, i could melt into the stars and become as transparent as the atmosphere.

Posted By claire On 11.29.2009 @ 9:17 pm

he placed the cello and his fingers, nimble across the string. i would never forget how in love with you i fell the moment my ears heard the music you played. and yet that was the beginning of many mistakes and many wounds. only if i could be deaf again.

Posted By claire On 11.28.2009 @ 5:48 pm

it is orange and used mainly at halloween. it can be carved into numerous shapes and faces. pumpkin pie is delicious at thanksgiving and also pumpkin soup. they come in a range of sizes and colours. children get lots of pleasure into

Posted By claire On 11.27.2009 @ 10:21 am

round orange, i plant them on farmville because they grow quickly but really it takes forever for pumpkins to grow. they have competitions where pumpkins grow really big and then they make boats out of them, like cinderella’s carriage. they race the boats. the boats look like venetian gondolas.

Posted By Claire On 11.26.2009 @ 7:18 pm

the tower rose above the mist, as if rising from the grave. it stood, distanced from the rest of the world. the clock bells rang her song. he shuffled his shoes across the cobblestone. he didn’t want to remember her face at this hour, he still crumbled at her name.

Posted By claire On 09.29.2009 @ 5:54 pm

the deck of cards flipping through his hands. pick a card he said, staring into my eyes. for a moment, i froze, and i looked down at his hands, his dark hands that were nimble, i pulled one slowly. he showed it to everyone. jack of spades. he had me rip it in half, in fourths, in eighths, and put them in the palm of my hands. rub them he said, and i couldn’t help but obey. and heat sweltered through my fingers, and the card was whole again. i couldn’t believe what had happened, perhaps, i’d fallen in love with a stranger again.

Posted By claire On 11.15.2009 @ 9:13 pm

sugar is the most delicious element in the world

Posted By claire On 11.15.2009 @ 5:09 pm

MMM. the momentary feeling of sugary bliss melting over my tongue has since elapsed into the annual post-halloween stomachache. everyevery year, nothing ever changes. and maybe that’s the way it needs to be

Posted By Claire On 11.15.2009 @ 12:54 pm

i love you so much , you are sweet and you make my day amazing and i think about you every waking moment . you are from georgia and i am from michigan , but i love the way you call me sugar , pumpkin darlin’ – your sweetie pie , honey dearest , you are mine .

Posted By claire On 11.14.2009 @ 9:08 pm

it was all acting, her dramatic gestures, as if the world was her audience. beneath her elaborate schemes, she was just tired, tired and sore. saddened and alone. of everything she had accomplished in her life, and how it always seemed like everything had been laid out in a path, and she just played the role. the role of a good daughter, a good sister, a good student, a good girlfriend, a good wife. but she longed to break free, her heart was set on the world.

Posted By claire On 11.13.2009 @ 11:40 pm

It was virtually impossible for her to forget his face. To look at the way he smiled at her was the only thing that had given her real butterflies since she had stupid crushes on boys in middle school. This was the first MAN she’d seen since she hit her 20s, there were lots of boys-he was an exception.

Posted By Claire On 11.13.2009 @ 7:07 pm

she wondered if there was any distinctions between the virtual, the imaginary. and all she wanted to do was stay in bed and dream all day, because her dreams had been better than reality. and she weeped as she woke, tears falling slowly with her opening eyes. in her dream, he had kissed her and said that he had made a mistake in leaving her, and that was the most she could have ever asked for.

Posted By claire On 11.12.2009 @ 5:23 pm

the drip drip drip slithers down my fingers a soft cool green sticky and sweet minty and refreshing ice cream

Posted By claire On 11.11.2009 @ 11:56 pm

The had taken the traffic cone. They put it in the back of her car and they drove off, smiling. it was little moments like these that she had fallen in love with, and the many reasons why her memories made her homesick for a place that would never be the same. when she came back, dear california, would have moved on without her.

Posted By claire On 11.11.2009 @ 6:05 pm

she watched the horse gallop away on the screen. behind the imaginary world of the television. and she wished she could press into the glass, all of the colored lights and blend with the world on the other side. where dreams and reality were one. and like the science of sleep, she had only to be in love with pony boy.

Posted By claire On 11.10.2009 @ 8:10 pm

i reach my hand up brushing the hair out of my eyes it falls back covering my left eye and my left eye only momentarily blind but i still can see though only out of one eye

Posted By claire On 11.09.2009 @ 8:33 pm

she wore her headband over her eyes. she wondered what it would be like to be blind. with the loss of sight, the opening of the heart, the breaking of her soul. and she had visions of him in a night where she had believed. blindness wasn’t a sickness, no, it was liberation.

Posted By claire On 11.09.2009 @ 7:36 pm

The incense fumed in the corner, spitting off a small trail of smoke that wound into spirals filling the air. It trailed up and out, dancing through the oxygen, until it drifted into nothingness at the top of the room. The smell remained in the air, and it smelled like Shaddy; or did Shaddy smell like incense? Either or, it was a musty sort of pine that would have been ridiculous if on any other guy.

Posted By Claire On 11.09.2009 @ 5:44 am

mmm incense! such a lover-ly smell! burnt the toast? light a stick! farted? strike that match! whew! thank whoever for those wonderful pieces of perfume!

Posted By Claire On 11.08.2009 @ 8:13 pm

Nory coughed as quietly as she could, attempting to be polite. Riley just let out a loud hacking noise as though he was about to die. “Riley!” she hissed. “Shut up!” “Incense,” he muttered back, “is disgusting!” “Remind me to ask for no inscense at my funeral,” mused Kristen. “If you’re still alive when I am.”

Posted By claire On 11.08.2009 @ 7:55 pm

the incense filled the room, clouding it with smoke, hazy. she sat there, legs crossed indian style in boxers and a loose tee, her fingers tracing the wooden floor. she could breathe for once, her mind clearing, yet in some strange way transcending the pain that had left her immobile. this was the beginning to freedom, to understanding that maybe love wasn’t always perfect.

Posted By claire On 11.08.2009 @ 1:35 pm