Her face had been daubed with paint in red and white like lead, so that she dared not smile lest the thick wrinkles of it betray an age she did not feel.
The sceptre was smooth in her hand, her throne shaped- not that stylised, flat thing, but a real heart, obscene in its furrows of raw flesh.
It had been six years since the man had learned how to use clouds as a reliable building material and he could not be happier. Living his days about the earth with his family and friends were magical, beautiful.
Hearts Aloft, he called the community. And theirs were. Never again could they go back to living with their feet in the dirt, wondering if the clouds would open up on them.
together us 3 in one love ley ba bum ba bum openheart surgery seseptable to contamoination but your heart stays pure as you think about your past and how it has rounded you …ba bum ba bum ba bummm……
I just found out a dear friend’s father passed away suddenly. Her heart is broken, and by extension, my heart is broken as well. I went through this 19 years ago. It gets easier to bear with time, the good memories crowding out the bad and sad ones, but it’s never an easy thing.
the cards were spread across the table, the wind had blown some onto the floor.
So much for card tricks! It was all suppose to entertain the kids while grandma was taken out through the side door. the Queen of hearts blew out the door with her.
so much to say-putting aside a quad bypass; the heart is a wondrous thing; blamed for our emotions; source of compassion and peace; absent apparently from some politicians..
some hearts they just get all the right breaks. some hearts have the stars on their side. some hearts they just have it so easy. some hearts just get lucky sometimes….my heart…well its as lucky as can be <3
Hearts and arrows diamonds – such an odd marketing scheme. Cupid, the little dickens, has is role, but is seems odd to commemorate the slaughtering of a heart by a diamond arrow.
Hearts are sore, today. Another member of the JMU community had their life taken last night. The skies are grey, but students and faculty have painted JMU purple. We are dukes, we are JMU Nation, we are JMU Strong. Most importantly, we are JMUnited.
Hearts are like flowers. Very fragile and hard to hold. No one knows what goes on in your heart but you. Sometimes You don’t even know whats going on in there.
Two hearts, it’s always two, isn’t it? Like one is somehow deficient. Like one is only one because it hasn’t yet become two. Soon. Why do such things always come in pairs…. Two of kind…..
In current times, where I have aged along with lovers lost in the wonder of looking at the heart of hearts ideas of poets and philosophers, I see the leaves as what they are: leaves.
Beating, ripped out. Sometimes I stay in the darkness just to feel. To make sure my heart is alive. There can be beauty in pain. There can be salvation in death.
Hearts aflame, heart’s desire. A heart may be a physical object, but to me it is much more of a metaphorical object. My heart is broken, but still beating.
The separation of the mind and body is multiplied by the distance between individuals. This is evident in our everyday social conventions, and also in the awkwardness of formal, textbook vernacular attempting to define love.
There were a thousand hearts, all pumping away in their little glass jars. I couldn’t really stand to look at any of them, not directly, so I kept my eyes on the floor. But I could hear their beats, all together. All together. And as I listened, my heart joined their song.
It was the hearts on the covers of her notebooks that first made me stop. They weren’t ‘hearts’ like the ones people can draw in under two seconds, no, they were human hearts. Beautiful, beautiful human hearts.
Our minds were baffeled and but not our hearts. We thought it was cool that the talking dog was waiting for the bus and that his little boy was aloud to ride for free.
everything that rises must converge. every scrap of hardened blood on callused cheeks must fall or be swept away because nothing can stay here long. if the universe is expanding then so are we. after this the what? after what the how? after how the why? our hearts are only the how of the what not the why, not the dream, not the voice. tomorrow i board a bus south. tomorrow i migrate like the animal i am with my animal heart i move to make my blood run thin.
ah my Valentine baby, well actually the day after..that is what hearts remind me of. She is sweet and unexpected but loved very much! Hearts are fragile and can be broken, not so sure that mine has been used to its full potential..i love my daughters, but being in love, is a whole different story.
Hearts. There are a lot of places I could go with this one. Like the little girl who wanted the heart off of my stethoscope. Or living with a heart condition from 16 years of age. Or feeling like you found the other half of yours, to end up broken-hearted. They just seem to show up everywhere, don’t they?
Her face had been daubed with paint in red and white like lead, so that she dared not smile lest the thick wrinkles of it betray an age she did not feel.
The sceptre was smooth in her hand, her throne shaped- not that stylised, flat thing, but a real heart, obscene in its furrows of raw flesh.
It had been six years since the man had learned how to use clouds as a reliable building material and he could not be happier. Living his days about the earth with his family and friends were magical, beautiful.
Hearts Aloft, he called the community. And theirs were. Never again could they go back to living with their feet in the dirt, wondering if the clouds would open up on them.
together us 3 in one love ley ba bum ba bum openheart surgery seseptable to contamoination but your heart stays pure as you think about your past and how it has rounded you …ba bum ba bum ba bummm……
I saw a sponge bob episode where sponge bob made a sweater for squidward made out of eyelashes that said “I
I just found out a dear friend’s father passed away suddenly. Her heart is broken, and by extension, my heart is broken as well. I went through this 19 years ago. It gets easier to bear with time, the good memories crowding out the bad and sad ones, but it’s never an easy thing.
the cards were spread across the table, the wind had blown some onto the floor.
So much for card tricks! It was all suppose to entertain the kids while grandma was taken out through the side door. the Queen of hearts blew out the door with her.
hearts renined me of love and valentine .
so much to say-putting aside a quad bypass; the heart is a wondrous thing; blamed for our emotions; source of compassion and peace; absent apparently from some politicians..
Hearts of people are like fuzzy warm bubbles within us that makes us blush whenever it gets tickled.
Well, there’s a body part and there’s a holiday but there’s something deeper: love.
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3,3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
shapus
Hearts are red. there inside of your body that keep you alive.
Hearts are read and on valentines are uselyy givenchoclate ones on valentines dsay for a gift
When i think of love. Like the shape hearts. Duh.
Hearts are red. The size of your fist.
hearts like u have a card with hearts on it or a jar of hearts!!!
idk
some hearts they just get all the right breaks. some hearts have the stars on their side. some hearts they just have it so easy. some hearts just get lucky sometimes….my heart…well its as lucky as can be <3
Hearts and arrows diamonds – such an odd marketing scheme. Cupid, the little dickens, has is role, but is seems odd to commemorate the slaughtering of a heart by a diamond arrow.
Hearts are sore, today. Another member of the JMU community had their life taken last night. The skies are grey, but students and faculty have painted JMU purple. We are dukes, we are JMU Nation, we are JMU Strong. Most importantly, we are JMUnited.
Hearts are like flowers. Very fragile and hard to hold. No one knows what goes on in your heart but you. Sometimes You don’t even know whats going on in there.
Hearts make one feel warm and fuzzy. They come in all colors and sizes. They symbolize love and passion. Valentine’s Day and hearts go together.
Hearts beat. Blood rushes. Take a seat. As the wave crushes.
Two hearts, it’s always two, isn’t it? Like one is somehow deficient. Like one is only one because it hasn’t yet become two. Soon. Why do such things always come in pairs…. Two of kind…..
In current times, where I have aged along with lovers lost in the wonder of looking at the heart of hearts ideas of poets and philosophers, I see the leaves as what they are: leaves.
hearts of atlantis? Does that mean the people of atlantis had a lot of heart?
maybe that’s why it no longer exists…
Beating, ripped out. Sometimes I stay in the darkness just to feel. To make sure my heart is alive. There can be beauty in pain. There can be salvation in death.
Hearts aflame, heart’s desire. A heart may be a physical object, but to me it is much more of a metaphorical object. My heart is broken, but still beating.
The separation of the mind and body is multiplied by the distance between individuals. This is evident in our everyday social conventions, and also in the awkwardness of formal, textbook vernacular attempting to define love.
He put on the helmet of hearts.
He look over wheat fields of woe.
He picked up the spear of lost love.
He set off for futures of snow.
There were a thousand hearts, all pumping away in their little glass jars. I couldn’t really stand to look at any of them, not directly, so I kept my eyes on the floor. But I could hear their beats, all together. All together. And as I listened, my heart joined their song.
Hearts are my favorite shape!(: They are so pretty. To me a heart is the symbol for love<3 Hearts look funny upside down.
It was the hearts on the covers of her notebooks that first made me stop. They weren’t ‘hearts’ like the ones people can draw in under two seconds, no, they were human hearts. Beautiful, beautiful human hearts.
Our minds were baffeled and but not our hearts. We thought it was cool that the talking dog was waiting for the bus and that his little boy was aloud to ride for free.
everything that rises must converge. every scrap of hardened blood on callused cheeks must fall or be swept away because nothing can stay here long. if the universe is expanding then so are we. after this the what? after what the how? after how the why? our hearts are only the how of the what not the why, not the dream, not the voice. tomorrow i board a bus south. tomorrow i migrate like the animal i am with my animal heart i move to make my blood run thin.
ah my Valentine baby, well actually the day after..that is what hearts remind me of. She is sweet and unexpected but loved very much! Hearts are fragile and can be broken, not so sure that mine has been used to its full potential..i love my daughters, but being in love, is a whole different story.
Hearts. People give you hearts when it’s valentines day. Your “guy friend” sometimes gives you hearts also and flowers.
its some thing that you give to some some one that you like or that is your vailmt
Hearts. There are a lot of places I could go with this one. Like the little girl who wanted the heart off of my stethoscope. Or living with a heart condition from 16 years of age. Or feeling like you found the other half of yours, to end up broken-hearted. They just seem to show up everywhere, don’t they?
they seperate theres two now
only slightly attatched
you can live on yours and
ill live on mine