Strange. As a teenager I could remember the great sadness and devastation I felt when I was speeding and ran over a tiny squirrel. I killed an innocent creature, so harmless and fragile. I gave up driving my mustang for a good month, I felt so awful over something I didn’t have full control over. I hated myself. Yet now, I glanced at the two lifeless bodies laying at my feet and held no remorse. Some might view my second life as making me into a monster, feeding on the blood of humans. What they could never understand is the fact that I have never killed nor never will spill the blood of the innocent. My victims only become my dinner because they chose to victimize the innocent. Except for that squirrel. Glancing away, I closed my eyes. I still felt so much remorse for that darn squirrel.
Killed seems to be a very dying word, no pun intended. Oh man, this is the first one I write about.. I think I’ve been watching too much Dexter. Hmm.. killed.. dead. something with no life. killed by someone, something, or just plain, killed? I don’t know what else to type..
this realization hit jessie hard.here,david/superior man had just been killed,and the first thing she thought of were these damned disks.a cold gust of wind blew.she felt a raindrop…and david was dead.she put her hands to her eyes and started bawling.
He killed any chance they had together with that selfish move. Killed the fire that had burned in her heart with ice-cold water– killed her vision of him. Still, the embers flickered. But she stomped them down and never looked back.
George stared down at his lifeless brother. It was impossible that he had been killed, now before their lives had even truly started. He tried to imagine that he was looking at himself; easier to believe that he was dead than Fred.
Sie hat mich getötet. Das letzte, was noch übrig war von meinem Leben, ist jetzt dahin, Schutt und Asche, vom Winde verweht, zerquetscht und verloren, für immer – meine Unbefangenheit. Bisher habe ich getan, was ich tun wollte, wovon ich glaubte, es wäre zum Wohle aller, jedenfalls das Beste, was ich in diesem Moment tun kann. Aber das zählt jetzt nicht mehr …
She killed him. Just killed him. Shot him dead. Kevin was there. He told me all about it. I was in his last words. He told me to kill her. It’s what she deserved. She killed him. He’s dead. Killed. Dead. Gone. Lost.
Video killed the radio star, false programming killed the video star, social networking and internet identity killed the meaning of star… or at least watered down to a boring murkiness of infamy, fame, and well known irrelevance.
I didn’t know when it happened. I mean, when I looked at it, it was already dead, but I never realized the exact moment when its life went out. The way she tells it, it all started one day after I told her how much I liked her
A murderer kills people. A assassin and a murder aren’t the same. A assassin kills important people,(ex: a president) and a murder kills less important people.(ex: a teacher)
such forced expression, depressions in the mold. the crystalline succession of water freezing cold. wandering through the symmetry of a cemetery, streetlights are foggy orbs of incandescence failing to illuminate the ground and only serving to make deep shadows darker.
When Michael was killed, everything changed and it has never changed back. We all moved farther away from each other as if having the space between us would allow for him to come back at any time whenever he had the mind to come back and pull us all together again.
She blew out slowly, and as the plumes of smoke gently washed over him, he leaned in closer. She took another long draw off the pipe, eyes never leaving his. And with a dreamy smile, leaned forward to once again breath the delicious over to him. He took advantage of the small gap between them, kissed her, sharing the smoke. Something in him woke up, some thing he felt had been killed was alive again, and it felt amazing. It was awake, alive.
I had a dream last night that I was a princess. Or at least I was going to be a princess because my boyfriend happened to be a prince. We must have fast-forwarded through an Asian drama because I don’t know how my boyfriend got from skater/Kanye-ist to prince but whatever. Anyway the reason why this is all relevant to the word is that my prince/fiance/boyfriend was convicted of the rape and murder of one of the bridesmaids. Which is 100% true but I already had the wedding dress on so I figured I might as well marry the guy. Oh and Aladdin was in love with me.
One day I entered my house after a long day at work. I was ready to greet my husband when I noticed that the TV wasn’t on, like it usually was. I called out to him, but heard no response. I checked his usual hide outs: the den, the garage, our room; I didn’t find him. I went out to the back yard, to see if he was chatting with our neighbor over the fence. Nobody. Just when I thought I’d call his cell, to see if he was out somewhere, I noticed a shadow out of the corner of my eye. I went to investigate. Behind our trashcans rested my husband’s lifeless body and a pool of blood; he had been killed.
She said it killed her when she kissed him but i still see her breathing so I think that was a lie. She said I’m sorry a million times but she ran off when I tried to talk so i think that was a lie, too. She said we’re bestfriends, and she said I’ll never speak to him again, but I saw his handprint on her spine and I saw the lines of his face on her cheeks and I saw his smile reflected in her eyes so I knew that was a lie.
I remember when his freckles were imprinted on my hands and she wouldn’t show me hers so I knew she had him hiding somewhere.
They said I Love You to me but they ran away together so I guess they were both liars.
death is a magical place. we finally discover the most important truth of the world, does He exist? or do we merely rot in the ground for all eternity? is our base substance a spiritual creation or a mere composition of basic atomic structure? these things will be answered when we are finally killed.
Blood is in the ground. It looks like a cartoon, too many lines an watercolors. “But, where is the corpse?” I said. No one replied to me, it’s just a cartoon, too many lines and watercolors.
When he died along the road everything happened so fast I cant believe he died and we still don’t know who killed him to this day. I feel bad for his family. That loved him so much. Boy I tell you, you just never know …
She lays on her bed, still as a dead person. Her eyes are wide open, but her heart has flown away. It was a thing she shouldn’t have done, and it killed her soul, even though she was alive.
It killed me to see what has become of public education in this country. Standardization, dumbing down to bridge the achievement gap, blaming everything on the teachers. I believe it is society who should be blamed for failing to solve the problems of poverty so inherent in this country.
John killed mary. He didn’t know why he did it. It just felt right. Now, with blood on his shirt and a blade in his hand he realized it was the wrong thing to do. What was he going to tell their parents. Why had he done it? He was confused.
For others, it screams ‘I was killed.’ But it means so much to those who understand how painful life truly is, it’s a few moments of pure calmness…
It hurts for a millisecond. I bleed for seconds that seem like hours. Relief fills me, because I know, for a little bit, I have control over my pathetic life.
His deep brown eyes looked into mine and my soul melted. “You really need to get that big hairy mole removed” he whispered into my ear and then the moment was killed. I mourn.
she gazed up at the sky, pain undulating through her very core, eminating from the small puncture wound in her torso. she knew with those few seconds of agony that he had killed her for her selfish nature, and regretted every second. her eyes slipped closed.
The blood slowly dripped down his throat, hands, and the arrow’s shaft, as all she could do for a split moment was watch him bleed and struggle, watching him twist the wood further into his throat…a scream pierced through her own throat before she sat bolt upright. A sob broke through Phee as she pulled her legs up, remembering that day in dreams, and crystal clarity.
An owl might kill mice but would it kill a bat. Would a bat kill a goat oh dear said Alice Im screwed said the hatter. Im not doing so well but hey look at all these crayons. yeah look at the spelling and grammar errors. 4 yrs of high school is lame I really only needed two but hey should have killed those two other yrs. hahaha pathetic attempt to track back to the word. Letter make words and words make sentences. what do you make? Cookies? Num. Sleep. Sing it for the boys sing it for the girls every time you lose it sing it for the world.
Its a harsh term usually symbolizing that someone is dead this word means that you have tooken someones or somethings life its a very intense word. when something is killed it is no longer in existence.
I killed someone today and it wasn’t pretty. He was murdered in the cold blood in daylight. It was hard to picture that I did it, my blood mixed with his in an effort to save himself. It was raining, no one was around and I for some reason did not panic amidst the chaos. The man in question was one who had a bright future and now with his murder on my hands I was doomed to spend the rest of my life in jail if anyone found out.
It killed him to lose the book. Where could it have gone? One minute, he was sitting there looking at this beautiful, astonishing answer to his quest; the next, he was bereft, heartbroken, and shocked that it could go so wrong so fast.
Strange. As a teenager I could remember the great sadness and devastation I felt when I was speeding and ran over a tiny squirrel. I killed an innocent creature, so harmless and fragile. I gave up driving my mustang for a good month, I felt so awful over something I didn’t have full control over. I hated myself. Yet now, I glanced at the two lifeless bodies laying at my feet and held no remorse. Some might view my second life as making me into a monster, feeding on the blood of humans. What they could never understand is the fact that I have never killed nor never will spill the blood of the innocent. My victims only become my dinner because they chose to victimize the innocent. Except for that squirrel. Glancing away, I closed my eyes. I still felt so much remorse for that darn squirrel.
Killed seems to be a very dying word, no pun intended. Oh man, this is the first one I write about.. I think I’ve been watching too much Dexter. Hmm.. killed.. dead. something with no life. killed by someone, something, or just plain, killed? I don’t know what else to type..
this realization hit jessie hard.here,david/superior man had just been killed,and the first thing she thought of were these damned disks.a cold gust of wind blew.she felt a raindrop…and david was dead.she put her hands to her eyes and started bawling.
Killed. The act of being deprived of lived generally not peacefully. killed
The boy was killed when he ran into the ghost. He didn’t see it coming and never saw what was out there. His mother is very sad to have lost him.
He killed any chance they had together with that selfish move. Killed the fire that had burned in her heart with ice-cold water– killed her vision of him. Still, the embers flickered. But she stomped them down and never looked back.
George stared down at his lifeless brother. It was impossible that he had been killed, now before their lives had even truly started. He tried to imagine that he was looking at himself; easier to believe that he was dead than Fred.
Sie hat mich getötet. Das letzte, was noch übrig war von meinem Leben, ist jetzt dahin, Schutt und Asche, vom Winde verweht, zerquetscht und verloren, für immer – meine Unbefangenheit. Bisher habe ich getan, was ich tun wollte, wovon ich glaubte, es wäre zum Wohle aller, jedenfalls das Beste, was ich in diesem Moment tun kann. Aber das zählt jetzt nicht mehr …
She killed him. Just killed him. Shot him dead. Kevin was there. He told me all about it. I was in his last words. He told me to kill her. It’s what she deserved. She killed him. He’s dead. Killed. Dead. Gone. Lost.
Video killed the radio star, false programming killed the video star, social networking and internet identity killed the meaning of star… or at least watered down to a boring murkiness of infamy, fame, and well known irrelevance.
I had a train of thought.
It flowed.
It made sense.
Unfortunately,
Interruption killed what ought to be said.
Fare the well.
I didn’t know when it happened. I mean, when I looked at it, it was already dead, but I never realized the exact moment when its life went out. The way she tells it, it all started one day after I told her how much I liked her
I was killed for my lack of action. You were all the world to me and yet never knew I existed. When the time came i was dismissed from your life
A murderer kills people. A assassin and a murder aren’t the same. A assassin kills important people,(ex: a president) and a murder kills less important people.(ex: a teacher)
such forced expression, depressions in the mold. the crystalline succession of water freezing cold. wandering through the symmetry of a cemetery, streetlights are foggy orbs of incandescence failing to illuminate the ground and only serving to make deep shadows darker.
When Michael was killed, everything changed and it has never changed back. We all moved farther away from each other as if having the space between us would allow for him to come back at any time whenever he had the mind to come back and pull us all together again.
There was once a girl who killed my heart. She broken in and stole it, smashed it and killed it. I will never be the same.
She blew out slowly, and as the plumes of smoke gently washed over him, he leaned in closer. She took another long draw off the pipe, eyes never leaving his. And with a dreamy smile, leaned forward to once again breath the delicious over to him. He took advantage of the small gap between them, kissed her, sharing the smoke. Something in him woke up, some thing he felt had been killed was alive again, and it felt amazing. It was awake, alive.
I had a dream last night that I was a princess. Or at least I was going to be a princess because my boyfriend happened to be a prince. We must have fast-forwarded through an Asian drama because I don’t know how my boyfriend got from skater/Kanye-ist to prince but whatever. Anyway the reason why this is all relevant to the word is that my prince/fiance/boyfriend was convicted of the rape and murder of one of the bridesmaids. Which is 100% true but I already had the wedding dress on so I figured I might as well marry the guy. Oh and Aladdin was in love with me.
November 18th, 2010. 3:44pm.
are you awake????? please speak to me by cadence gayfer
One day I entered my house after a long day at work. I was ready to greet my husband when I noticed that the TV wasn’t on, like it usually was. I called out to him, but heard no response. I checked his usual hide outs: the den, the garage, our room; I didn’t find him. I went out to the back yard, to see if he was chatting with our neighbor over the fence. Nobody. Just when I thought I’d call his cell, to see if he was out somewhere, I noticed a shadow out of the corner of my eye. I went to investigate. Behind our trashcans rested my husband’s lifeless body and a pool of blood; he had been killed.
She said it killed her when she kissed him but i still see her breathing so I think that was a lie. She said I’m sorry a million times but she ran off when I tried to talk so i think that was a lie, too. She said we’re bestfriends, and she said I’ll never speak to him again, but I saw his handprint on her spine and I saw the lines of his face on her cheeks and I saw his smile reflected in her eyes so I knew that was a lie.
I remember when his freckles were imprinted on my hands and she wouldn’t show me hers so I knew she had him hiding somewhere.
They said I Love You to me but they ran away together so I guess they were both liars.
death is a magical place. we finally discover the most important truth of the world, does He exist? or do we merely rot in the ground for all eternity? is our base substance a spiritual creation or a mere composition of basic atomic structure? these things will be answered when we are finally killed.
Blood is in the ground. It looks like a cartoon, too many lines an watercolors. “But, where is the corpse?” I said. No one replied to me, it’s just a cartoon, too many lines and watercolors.
When he died along the road everything happened so fast I cant believe he died and we still don’t know who killed him to this day. I feel bad for his family. That loved him so much. Boy I tell you, you just never know …
She lays on her bed, still as a dead person. Her eyes are wide open, but her heart has flown away. It was a thing she shouldn’t have done, and it killed her soul, even though she was alive.
why? where? who? me? with what? not fair. not ready. want more time. i’m scared but at peace.
sorry wont be there for dinner
alright
cadence ha
It killed me to see what has become of public education in this country. Standardization, dumbing down to bridge the achievement gap, blaming everything on the teachers. I believe it is society who should be blamed for failing to solve the problems of poverty so inherent in this country.
John killed mary. He didn’t know why he did it. It just felt right. Now, with blood on his shirt and a blade in his hand he realized it was the wrong thing to do. What was he going to tell their parents. Why had he done it? He was confused.
For others, it screams ‘I was killed.’ But it means so much to those who understand how painful life truly is, it’s a few moments of pure calmness…
It hurts for a millisecond. I bleed for seconds that seem like hours. Relief fills me, because I know, for a little bit, I have control over my pathetic life.
His deep brown eyes looked into mine and my soul melted. “You really need to get that big hairy mole removed” he whispered into my ear and then the moment was killed. I mourn.
she gazed up at the sky, pain undulating through her very core, eminating from the small puncture wound in her torso. she knew with those few seconds of agony that he had killed her for her selfish nature, and regretted every second. her eyes slipped closed.
The blood slowly dripped down his throat, hands, and the arrow’s shaft, as all she could do for a split moment was watch him bleed and struggle, watching him twist the wood further into his throat…a scream pierced through her own throat before she sat bolt upright. A sob broke through Phee as she pulled her legs up, remembering that day in dreams, and crystal clarity.
An owl might kill mice but would it kill a bat. Would a bat kill a goat oh dear said Alice Im screwed said the hatter. Im not doing so well but hey look at all these crayons. yeah look at the spelling and grammar errors. 4 yrs of high school is lame I really only needed two but hey should have killed those two other yrs. hahaha pathetic attempt to track back to the word. Letter make words and words make sentences. what do you make? Cookies? Num. Sleep. Sing it for the boys sing it for the girls every time you lose it sing it for the world.
Its a harsh term usually symbolizing that someone is dead this word means that you have tooken someones or somethings life its a very intense word. when something is killed it is no longer in existence.
I killed someone today and it wasn’t pretty. He was murdered in the cold blood in daylight. It was hard to picture that I did it, my blood mixed with his in an effort to save himself. It was raining, no one was around and I for some reason did not panic amidst the chaos. The man in question was one who had a bright future and now with his murder on my hands I was doomed to spend the rest of my life in jail if anyone found out.
A CASE
the crime; the investigation.
a blank body
cold and still
with no one to tell,
the blood paint dried,
the tedious bend over
examination
bringing from you only what we need-
our satisfaction complete.
the solution in a cell.
It killed him to lose the book. Where could it have gone? One minute, he was sitting there looking at this beautiful, astonishing answer to his quest; the next, he was bereft, heartbroken, and shocked that it could go so wrong so fast.
if the rule you followed led you to this of what use was the rule?