a beating vessel in the body. keeps blood moving through. vital to life, never stops beating ever forever and ever. I love. what do i love love love love hearts. forever. teenage love. its crap.
Hearts are pink. Hearts are red. Hearts are purple. Heartsare blue. They have to do with playing cards. They have to do with love. They are a vital organ. They are a symbol of a lot of things. People type them by putting less than three. POeople
When I was a child my family used to play Hearts all the time. It was such a good game and easy enough for a child to learn and excel. Just the right blend of skill and luck. It was my favorite game, but I have not played it since I was a child.
love pink and i would say red but that can also mean hate so i’ll just leave that one out. valentines day or feburary. the thing that beats in your body to keep you alive everyday. however if this things stops working so will you. smh. it has blue and red vains in it. a heart has a funny and weird shape. I love when people send me heart text messages, they make me feel special haha.
Love HAppiness Fun Hearts Happy Boys Girls Loving Caring Dear He She Interesting Started thinking Writing Boring Computers SOunding Point View Care Generous Minutes Cars Work Cherly Swirly Camp Munch Valentine Boyfriend Girlfriend Husband Wife Children Mother Father Breakfast Panera
one day, valentines day of course were all expected to do something super cute and romantic. its the one day to buy flowers and chocloate and thats suppose to show yoru love, but i think its dumb. I would so much rather get flowers on a random day and it be more heartfelt then to get them on a day where you are forced to show you care.
AV
Hearts have long been a symbol of love and affection since the dawn of time. People who are young and in love are resembled by two halves of a beautifully shaped red symbol. However, they don’t symbolize just love. They can mean happiness, peace, and a goal. In fact, these are the most common and shared goals in the world. They heart can symbolize so much, yet it is so simple.
hearts are what keep people alive they pump blood around your body. Hearts are most of the time broken by other people but your heart is the most valuble thing you have. Giving your heart to someone is the most special thing.
the representation of love. the feeling that makes people feel like they can do anything and they have people who care for them. hearts make me think about valentines day and i believe love is a very powerful and wonderful thing to have in your life.
Aradia Kleber
Though apart, we still speak, in tongues not known to others. We are together when apart and apart when together. I only wish to see and share with you, my heart of hearts.
love pain emotion mind choose soul life people chocies everyone everything love love love joy and bliss and happiness and forvere and travel and forgiving and experiencing and regrets and forgiveness and madness and anger and frustration and sadness depression and hurt and wonder and determination and sacrifice and what you want versus what you need it’s all there just got to find it curioosity life life
I remember when I you told me all the things you thought about this world, and I could see there was a universe inside of you. We’re all universes, black masses and hidden spaces, but you, your stars were dying and fading into but planets. And I could see that. So I told you the things you wanted to hear, in and out came these words, in and out, but they meant nothing to me. You were fading and showing it, no longer masking your eyes that flickered as each electric nerve in your brain died. I told you the things you wanted to hear, and I hoped it helped, but they were not the truth. They weren’t what you had to hear. I am a satellite, I float and never land and can’t feel right in the place that I am. The truth is, no matter where you are it’s the wrong place. But I tore up these tiny hearts for you, and tore up my words.
The sun shone through the pollution in the air and we kept hold of that moment because we knew that once I left we would find no other that held captive these same fears. So take my words and let them not go useless. Take them and try your best to believe in them.
You’re a fickle thing. You ask and tug on her heartstrings. But she doesn’t hear you, because she won’t listen. Her heart is too small to let you in, and your heart is too big that it’s overwhelming. Because for the first time, you feel something. And you don’t know if that’s a good thing.
IT is were all our love is stored and replenished. It is our heart of hearts. It were we giving in to the call for forgiveness, and to care when all is lost. To accept when our love one walk through the door, vowing never to come back.
It was a heart. the soul and center of everything. I broke my heart I lost my heart, I gave it away, that’s what everyone says after all. they talk about a heart like its something entirely divorced from them self, yet still vitally important. No one ever truly knows how important until it’s lost.
on fire. they beat at the pace of a soul driven extroverted gasm. thump thump thump they go in the middle of the night. they’re meant to be next to each other but yours is so far from mine. let’s connect hearts right meow.
hearts are so very fragile, and it doesn’t take a lover to break one. Hearts can be broken at any age, by any one. I even think you can break your own heart. That’s why I try so damned hard to keep mine protected, but every time I slip and let it out, it causes so much pain.
and flowers. It’s nice, always. Nice to get given flowers by someone whose heart beats a little bit faster when they see you…whose heart threatens to burst into bloom like a glorious peony, all ruffles and delicate shuddering petals, unfolding and unfolding endlessy
Hearts are there for love. They pump blood, lust, and feelings all around your body. Sometimes the heart pumps bad feelings around, sometimes it’s feelings of elation. They flow through your body and make you do things you sometimes regret, sometimes are proud of. The heart controls everything you do.
There are many great hearts out there – by that,I mean people who live from their hearts. They live with compassion, caring, and right living. They are people who can give, and can receive.
Hearts. I came home. Opened my bedroom door and found nothing but hearts scribbled everywhere. Every. Where. From my bed sheets all the way to the back of my closet. This girl. This girl wanted me. This girl wanted me dead.
I settled down and flipped her over. her cheek, smeared with makeup, beckoned me to her, but I couldn’t. I was loyal to someone else. She scowled, first, so I did the unthinkable: I bent her. She cut me in return.
Tonight I bid goodbye to the Queen of Hearts with a bleeding hand.
I used to collect them to live longer but my bag got to full, what is a long life without love I wondered. Evil laughs turned into joyful smiles. I gave out hearts
Hearts. Beating, bleeding, working hard hearts inside our chests. Pulsing with rhythms of vitality and vigor, in younger years. Slowly fading, slowly faltering. Hearts beat in our chests until they don’t beat anymore.
Love. Beating red hearts full of blood and fire, the seat of passion, the seat of the soul, the transmutation point between the lower creative energies of the body and the cool, firm logic of the head. Without it, we die. We are less than nothing. Heart is everything.
Hearts.
we notice them when we are lying still, in the dark.
endless footsteps of tiny marching men.
armies of them.
they are always going somewhere; the sound of their many feet echo through our heads.
our hearts are fighting for us.
we notice them when we run, when we are scared, when we are in love,
when the army is on the move
to defend and save
sending forth red messengers to every corner of the world
which it works so hard to keep alive.
And when it does, we notice.
fragile yet functional, flowing forward while hindered, cracked, broken, bleeding
yet it mends together faster than broken artifacts
humbly, hospitably; inviting new hearts to come damage its reflection
still it shares while it aches
still it yearns while it fakes
it beats to life’s different melodies
Hearts. I used to tell them they could never change them around. Never have a new one, always remember, always feel. That a heart once broken would stay broken. But a South African surgeon in the nineties showed us different. Broken hearts could be swapped for new ones.
There’s a new heart for every different one. And when replaced, all that’s left is that faint recognition within you, within your chest, that once, yes once, there used to be a different heart there. Your ribs will always ache for the day when your first heart first pumped faster, unknowing that it had just begun its own countdown to its death.
I doodled hearts, flowers and stars as her voice droned on and on. I hoped I replied at the appropriate times to cover up the fact that I wasn’t really listening to her incessant words down the telephone. I tried to sketch a daisy but it didn’t look right. I’d always wished that I could draw.
Attraction of the hearts. Distraction of the mind. Confusion of the beings. Love or lust? A symbol or just a joke? A meaning….or nothing more than just a heart?
a beating vessel in the body. keeps blood moving through. vital to life, never stops beating ever forever and ever. I love. what do i love love love love hearts. forever. teenage love. its crap.
Hearts are pink. Hearts are red. Hearts are purple. Heartsare blue. They have to do with playing cards. They have to do with love. They are a vital organ. They are a symbol of a lot of things. People type them by putting less than three. POeople
the object of love and life. Something with great importance but if untreated can leave u in the dirt. Hearts are red and vibra
When I was a child my family used to play Hearts all the time. It was such a good game and easy enough for a child to learn and excel. Just the right blend of skill and luck. It was my favorite game, but I have not played it since I was a child.
ok.
au delas1
mes… souhaits
desfecto.
love pink and i would say red but that can also mean hate so i’ll just leave that one out. valentines day or feburary. the thing that beats in your body to keep you alive everyday. however if this things stops working so will you. smh. it has blue and red vains in it. a heart has a funny and weird shape. I love when people send me heart text messages, they make me feel special haha.
Love HAppiness Fun Hearts Happy Boys Girls Loving Caring Dear He She Interesting Started thinking Writing Boring Computers SOunding Point View Care Generous Minutes Cars Work Cherly Swirly Camp Munch Valentine Boyfriend Girlfriend Husband Wife Children Mother Father Breakfast Panera
one day, valentines day of course were all expected to do something super cute and romantic. its the one day to buy flowers and chocloate and thats suppose to show yoru love, but i think its dumb. I would so much rather get flowers on a random day and it be more heartfelt then to get them on a day where you are forced to show you care.
AV
Hearts have long been a symbol of love and affection since the dawn of time. People who are young and in love are resembled by two halves of a beautifully shaped red symbol. However, they don’t symbolize just love. They can mean happiness, peace, and a goal. In fact, these are the most common and shared goals in the world. They heart can symbolize so much, yet it is so simple.
hearts are what keep people alive they pump blood around your body. Hearts are most of the time broken by other people but your heart is the most valuble thing you have. Giving your heart to someone is the most special thing.
the representation of love. the feeling that makes people feel like they can do anything and they have people who care for them. hearts make me think about valentines day and i believe love is a very powerful and wonderful thing to have in your life.
Aradia Kleber
Though apart, we still speak, in tongues not known to others. We are together when apart and apart when together. I only wish to see and share with you, my heart of hearts.
love pain emotion mind choose soul life people chocies everyone everything love love love joy and bliss and happiness and forvere and travel and forgiving and experiencing and regrets and forgiveness and madness and anger and frustration and sadness depression and hurt and wonder and determination and sacrifice and what you want versus what you need it’s all there just got to find it curioosity life life
When hearts meet, minds communicate. Remember, love, enjoy.
The heart is the center of the body. Soul. Mind
I remember when I you told me all the things you thought about this world, and I could see there was a universe inside of you. We’re all universes, black masses and hidden spaces, but you, your stars were dying and fading into but planets. And I could see that. So I told you the things you wanted to hear, in and out came these words, in and out, but they meant nothing to me. You were fading and showing it, no longer masking your eyes that flickered as each electric nerve in your brain died. I told you the things you wanted to hear, and I hoped it helped, but they were not the truth. They weren’t what you had to hear. I am a satellite, I float and never land and can’t feel right in the place that I am. The truth is, no matter where you are it’s the wrong place. But I tore up these tiny hearts for you, and tore up my words.
The sun shone through the pollution in the air and we kept hold of that moment because we knew that once I left we would find no other that held captive these same fears. So take my words and let them not go useless. Take them and try your best to believe in them.
You’re a fickle thing. You ask and tug on her heartstrings. But she doesn’t hear you, because she won’t listen. Her heart is too small to let you in, and your heart is too big that it’s overwhelming. Because for the first time, you feel something. And you don’t know if that’s a good thing.
Play hearts, the game of cards and love. Are these the same thing? Chance is all.
Hearts are at the heart of things – including chance.
IT is were all our love is stored and replenished. It is our heart of hearts. It were we giving in to the call for forgiveness, and to care when all is lost. To accept when our love one walk through the door, vowing never to come back.
It was a heart. the soul and center of everything. I broke my heart I lost my heart, I gave it away, that’s what everyone says after all. they talk about a heart like its something entirely divorced from them self, yet still vitally important. No one ever truly knows how important until it’s lost.
on fire. they beat at the pace of a soul driven extroverted gasm. thump thump thump they go in the middle of the night. they’re meant to be next to each other but yours is so far from mine. let’s connect hearts right meow.
hearts are so very fragile, and it doesn’t take a lover to break one. Hearts can be broken at any age, by any one. I even think you can break your own heart. That’s why I try so damned hard to keep mine protected, but every time I slip and let it out, it causes so much pain.
and flowers. It’s nice, always. Nice to get given flowers by someone whose heart beats a little bit faster when they see you…whose heart threatens to burst into bloom like a glorious peony, all ruffles and delicate shuddering petals, unfolding and unfolding endlessy
Hearts are there for love. They pump blood, lust, and feelings all around your body. Sometimes the heart pumps bad feelings around, sometimes it’s feelings of elation. They flow through your body and make you do things you sometimes regret, sometimes are proud of. The heart controls everything you do.
I can’t think of anything to say about hearts that isn’t stupid, sappy or overly negative.
There are many great hearts out there – by that,I mean people who live from their hearts. They live with compassion, caring, and right living. They are people who can give, and can receive.
I can see hearts everywhere, wonder why? Blue, purple, white, red, is it the spitrit of Christmas coming already.
Hearts. I came home. Opened my bedroom door and found nothing but hearts scribbled everywhere. Every. Where. From my bed sheets all the way to the back of my closet. This girl. This girl wanted me. This girl wanted me dead.
They fluttered from the sky like angels or flower petals but really they were all my work. Down like scraps of confetti.
The butterfly corpses fell to my feet, first monarch then emperor and birdwing and the rest to follow, their hearts stopping one by one.
Just picture it…7 billion hearts beating, all at different tempos, what a dance!
I settled down and flipped her over. her cheek, smeared with makeup, beckoned me to her, but I couldn’t. I was loyal to someone else. She scowled, first, so I did the unthinkable: I bent her. She cut me in return.
Tonight I bid goodbye to the Queen of Hearts with a bleeding hand.
I used to collect them to live longer but my bag got to full, what is a long life without love I wondered. Evil laughs turned into joyful smiles. I gave out hearts
Hearts. Beating, bleeding, working hard hearts inside our chests. Pulsing with rhythms of vitality and vigor, in younger years. Slowly fading, slowly faltering. Hearts beat in our chests until they don’t beat anymore.
Love. Beating red hearts full of blood and fire, the seat of passion, the seat of the soul, the transmutation point between the lower creative energies of the body and the cool, firm logic of the head. Without it, we die. We are less than nothing. Heart is everything.
The shape of a love heart is based on the shape of a woman’s arse as the bent over.
Hearts.
we notice them when we are lying still, in the dark.
endless footsteps of tiny marching men.
armies of them.
they are always going somewhere; the sound of their many feet echo through our heads.
our hearts are fighting for us.
we notice them when we run, when we are scared, when we are in love,
when the army is on the move
to defend and save
sending forth red messengers to every corner of the world
which it works so hard to keep alive.
And when it does, we notice.
fragile yet functional, flowing forward while hindered, cracked, broken, bleeding
yet it mends together faster than broken artifacts
humbly, hospitably; inviting new hearts to come damage its reflection
still it shares while it aches
still it yearns while it fakes
it beats to life’s different melodies
Hearts. I used to tell them they could never change them around. Never have a new one, always remember, always feel. That a heart once broken would stay broken. But a South African surgeon in the nineties showed us different. Broken hearts could be swapped for new ones.
There’s a new heart for every different one. And when replaced, all that’s left is that faint recognition within you, within your chest, that once, yes once, there used to be a different heart there. Your ribs will always ache for the day when your first heart first pumped faster, unknowing that it had just begun its own countdown to its death.
I doodled hearts, flowers and stars as her voice droned on and on. I hoped I replied at the appropriate times to cover up the fact that I wasn’t really listening to her incessant words down the telephone. I tried to sketch a daisy but it didn’t look right. I’d always wished that I could draw.
These broken hearts, shattered and torn. Smile and don’t give up just yet, because there’s still hope for a brighter tomorrow. This I so swear.
Attraction of the hearts. Distraction of the mind. Confusion of the beings. Love or lust? A symbol or just a joke? A meaning….or nothing more than just a heart?