A sheet of paper. White, swept clean of assumption, any expectations… it’s there, waiting to be filled, eager as ever. Naive, even. Stumbling on newly little hooves, it lurches forward, and there’s hope crisp on the air.
The sheets rustled as I turned back and forth, attempting to find just that sweet, comfortable spot before sleep. My nose was running, my head was aching, and I knew this was doomed to be a long night.
white, blankless and leaving me to shreds. i’ve hidden under you, touching myself like a lover touching their first. and i wish it was a real person. pathetic, but you always make me feel better, as i hide beneath you. leave me alone, it’s not incest, it’s faith.
I remember a time when my parents couldn’t say ‘sheet’. Instead they would say ‘shit’ because of their accents. To this day they may pronounce sheet and shit but I wouldn’t realize because I’ve gotten used to all their shit.
Scraps of paper filled the room quickly, her pen scribbling angrily, line after line. Thoughts tumbled about like startled cats all caught in a small room with a catnip plant. The smile grew wider as her frenzied ideas grew clearer.
The sheet of paper was dangling from the roof as it was flying in and around buildings with the fury of the wind. It flew far beyond what was thought normal of the wind.
sheets and blankets
sheets and blankets
my pillows cold
my pillows cold
cookies milk and story time
cookies milk and story time
my moms the best
my moms the best.
someone please clean the sheets. They have been stained by the streams of whores and virgins. Too many people have passed by, stony eyed, never straying, never slowing down or speeding up. Press some life back into the sheets, fold the corners, remove the creases with a brisk flick of the hand, clean… the… sheets…
My cat likes to eat sheets. She is a weird cat. My other cat likes to eat other cats. He is an even weirder cat. But my mouse is evil. It’s a hermaphrodite and ate my poor fairy. But Donavin the paper plate will get revenge!
Stop walking by my house waiting for something income out
I’m under the sheets, an I’m never coming put
someone rescue me, Abigail, goddamn, please
stop trying to convince me that I’m better off like this
better off like this I’m so sorry for everything that I did right. I’m so sorry for
everything that undid me
sheet of paper
floating in the wind
belonging to no one
but seemingly mine
i wrote for you
poems
songs
stories
but you never read them
the wind stole it
from your heart
when you let go.
There’s not much that could be said about him, he seemed to be a blank slate — nothing on his mind or face but the simplicity of emptiness and the totality of clear thought.
There’s not much that could be said about him, he seemed to be a blank slate — nothing on his mind or face but the simplicity of emptiness and the totality of clear thought.
After my brief fit of hysteria, my mind felt a little clearer. I took a sheet of paper and a pen from a nearby desk and began to write. I not only needed a plan; I needed to leave details of it behind me as I went along, just in case there was anyone else left.
A blank sheet. That’s all I need to write something beautiful. To put my thoughts and feelings into words. Not every sheet is perfect. Rarely, is any sheet perfect. But it is a start. A place to give meaning to everything in my head. It is true.
Ethan was a stupid boy. He watched too much Shaman King, and glued a sheet over his dog so the dog would be a ghost, and he would make an oversoul by duct taping the dog to a hockey stick. The dog died later from being stabbed by the snout of a falling volto.
Fairies are cool because you can catch them with sheets, and they like sheets that smell like Burger King food. I had a pet fairy once. She lived in a cage with a little hamster wheel, and I’d cover the cage with a paper plate, and the plate was named Donavin.
I’m going to be a movie star! My audience is sheets from the sheet planet of SHEETOPIA! I like that planet. It’s nice. The summers are warm, and there’s lots of fog in which to hide dragon eggs so they don’t get swine flu and die like things that are sick.
Tearing up that sheet of paper was a bad idea. The owner was a magic cow that got mad and cursed me with clumsiness. I tripped over the universe and broke my leg. The cow laughed and high-fived her cud. The cud then gave me the finger. I didn’t like that.
The sheet of paper was blank. Then the ideas just poured out onto the paper. All the feelings held back in the reserves behind the walls of shame and fear. Just fell into place on the sheet of paper. Leaving the love that couldn’t be said there for all the world to read… A forbidden love.
The dog peed all over the sheets last night. Yeah, I’m blaming the dog for something he didn’t do, but he promised to take the fall for the wizard who decided to crash at my house. And crash he did. Now who will get that bus out of my wall? It’s distracting from my movie time!
The drunk wizard wiped his face with the bedsheet that his wife had puked up after eating for breakfast when she tried to imitate Ed. Now he had puke all over his face, but that didn’t matter because he was drunk, even if puke was gross.
I stare at the sheet of paper. This fanfic is terrible! It’s like if My Immortal and Cloud Mows The Lawn had a baby, and then the baby threw up all over Teasetting Ron, which then got in a car crash with Until The End Of TIme and Celebrian.
“I’m a sheet!” the sheet bragged to Marion’s leg tumor. The tumor told the sheet to shut up; Marion was busy listening to a Lady Gaga song and did not like being interrupted by things that shouldn’t even be talking. They were only talking because the wizard was drunk.
She set the sheet down. The sheet that said everything Marcus had ever felt for her. She let a tear fall down her cheek and stain the paper. “Oh, Marcus, where are you,” she whispered quietly to no one.
I went to the store to buy some sheets, but all they had were paper plates. I have no idea why paper plates were in the linens section, but someone was going to get fired by me because I suddenly work there, which I did not know before. I slept on paper plates that night. I did not sleep very well because of that.
i see a sheet of paper and i can’t help but write. her name is elizabeth and we had a date but no kiss. here’s what i have to say to you:
I AM SORRY I MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!
I AM UNCOMFORTABLE TOO!
i stare at this sheet of paper. i have no inspiration, simply writing with a lack of imagination. this sheet is foreign to my pen. still now nothing comes to mind.
I am about to go to bed and I have these really soft t-shirt sheets. They let me hide away from the world. I snuggle up inthem and make a cocoon and read or sleep or relax or cry or smile or whatever in them. I
one sheet of paper. i can do so much, write down my music or poem. write him a note to say how much i love him. crumple it up and waste another chance…
music. i have some stairway to heaven sheet music. my cat puked on it. i was pissed. then i never let her in my room again. she died last year. i miss that cat. her name was sunstar. i got it from these my little pony movies i used to watch. i was like 7. i’m almost 20 now.
He picked up the sheet of paper, turning it over as if expecting content to magically appear on it. Not that that would be far fetched in this world. “So. . .why is she carrying around a blank sheet of pink paper? Does it do anything?”
I laid the sheet over the coffin. I coughed out a cry and backed away. Everyone stared at me, felt horribly for the innocent girl who never got to say sorry. Time ran out, as it always does. And the definition of us had faded away.
I want to draw a sheep on a cotton sheet, roll myself in it, pretend I’m a funnel cake.
A sheet of paper. White, swept clean of assumption, any expectations… it’s there, waiting to be filled, eager as ever. Naive, even. Stumbling on newly little hooves, it lurches forward, and there’s hope crisp on the air.
The sheets rustled as I turned back and forth, attempting to find just that sweet, comfortable spot before sleep. My nose was running, my head was aching, and I knew this was doomed to be a long night.
white, blankless and leaving me to shreds. i’ve hidden under you, touching myself like a lover touching their first. and i wish it was a real person. pathetic, but you always make me feel better, as i hide beneath you. leave me alone, it’s not incest, it’s faith.
I remember a time when my parents couldn’t say ‘sheet’. Instead they would say ‘shit’ because of their accents. To this day they may pronounce sheet and shit but I wouldn’t realize because I’ve gotten used to all their shit.
Scraps of paper filled the room quickly, her pen scribbling angrily, line after line. Thoughts tumbled about like startled cats all caught in a small room with a catnip plant. The smile grew wider as her frenzied ideas grew clearer.
The sheet of paper was dangling from the roof as it was flying in and around buildings with the fury of the wind. It flew far beyond what was thought normal of the wind.
a sheet can be soft and wet and warm and clean. A sheet can be blank. A sheet of paper can hold my thoughts in place while I pin them to the surface.
the sheet was nice and warm I didn’t want to get up
it felt so good under the sheet
sheets and blankets
sheets and blankets
my pillows cold
my pillows cold
cookies milk and story time
cookies milk and story time
my moms the best
my moms the best.
someone please clean the sheets. They have been stained by the streams of whores and virgins. Too many people have passed by, stony eyed, never straying, never slowing down or speeding up. Press some life back into the sheets, fold the corners, remove the creases with a brisk flick of the hand, clean… the… sheets…
My cat likes to eat sheets. She is a weird cat. My other cat likes to eat other cats. He is an even weirder cat. But my mouse is evil. It’s a hermaphrodite and ate my poor fairy. But Donavin the paper plate will get revenge!
Stop walking by my house waiting for something income out
I’m under the sheets, an I’m never coming put
someone rescue me, Abigail, goddamn, please
stop trying to convince me that I’m better off like this
better off like this I’m so sorry for everything that I did right. I’m so sorry for
everything that undid me
sheet of paper
floating in the wind
belonging to no one
but seemingly mine
i wrote for you
poems
songs
stories
but you never read them
the wind stole it
from your heart
when you let go.
There’s not much that could be said about him, he seemed to be a blank slate — nothing on his mind or face but the simplicity of emptiness and the totality of clear thought.
There’s not much that could be said about him, he seemed to be a blank slate — nothing on his mind or face but the simplicity of emptiness and the totality of clear thought.
After my brief fit of hysteria, my mind felt a little clearer. I took a sheet of paper and a pen from a nearby desk and began to write. I not only needed a plan; I needed to leave details of it behind me as I went along, just in case there was anyone else left.
A blank sheet. That’s all I need to write something beautiful. To put my thoughts and feelings into words. Not every sheet is perfect. Rarely, is any sheet perfect. But it is a start. A place to give meaning to everything in my head. It is true.
Ethan was a stupid boy. He watched too much Shaman King, and glued a sheet over his dog so the dog would be a ghost, and he would make an oversoul by duct taping the dog to a hockey stick. The dog died later from being stabbed by the snout of a falling volto.
Fairies are cool because you can catch them with sheets, and they like sheets that smell like Burger King food. I had a pet fairy once. She lived in a cage with a little hamster wheel, and I’d cover the cage with a paper plate, and the plate was named Donavin.
I’m going to be a movie star! My audience is sheets from the sheet planet of SHEETOPIA! I like that planet. It’s nice. The summers are warm, and there’s lots of fog in which to hide dragon eggs so they don’t get swine flu and die like things that are sick.
Tearing up that sheet of paper was a bad idea. The owner was a magic cow that got mad and cursed me with clumsiness. I tripped over the universe and broke my leg. The cow laughed and high-fived her cud. The cud then gave me the finger. I didn’t like that.
The sheet of paper was blank. Then the ideas just poured out onto the paper. All the feelings held back in the reserves behind the walls of shame and fear. Just fell into place on the sheet of paper. Leaving the love that couldn’t be said there for all the world to read… A forbidden love.
My sheets are dirty, Ashleigh’s are clean. And she is the one who clears the sink of dirty dishes but I saw her sniff the crumby rag. Secret slob.
The dog peed all over the sheets last night. Yeah, I’m blaming the dog for something he didn’t do, but he promised to take the fall for the wizard who decided to crash at my house. And crash he did. Now who will get that bus out of my wall? It’s distracting from my movie time!
The drunk wizard wiped his face with the bedsheet that his wife had puked up after eating for breakfast when she tried to imitate Ed. Now he had puke all over his face, but that didn’t matter because he was drunk, even if puke was gross.
I stare at the sheet of paper. This fanfic is terrible! It’s like if My Immortal and Cloud Mows The Lawn had a baby, and then the baby threw up all over Teasetting Ron, which then got in a car crash with Until The End Of TIme and Celebrian.
“I’m a sheet!” the sheet bragged to Marion’s leg tumor. The tumor told the sheet to shut up; Marion was busy listening to a Lady Gaga song and did not like being interrupted by things that shouldn’t even be talking. They were only talking because the wizard was drunk.
She set the sheet down. The sheet that said everything Marcus had ever felt for her. She let a tear fall down her cheek and stain the paper. “Oh, Marcus, where are you,” she whispered quietly to no one.
I went to the store to buy some sheets, but all they had were paper plates. I have no idea why paper plates were in the linens section, but someone was going to get fired by me because I suddenly work there, which I did not know before. I slept on paper plates that night. I did not sleep very well because of that.
i see a sheet of paper and i can’t help but write. her name is elizabeth and we had a date but no kiss. here’s what i have to say to you:
I AM SORRY I MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!
I AM UNCOMFORTABLE TOO!
Ed took the sheet off his bed and ate it for breakfast because he was out of chicken.
“Where are the apples?” asked Ryuk.
“Shut up, this isn’t even your anime. Go jump out the window.” Ed drank a gallon o forange juice.
i stare at this sheet of paper. i have no inspiration, simply writing with a lack of imagination. this sheet is foreign to my pen. still now nothing comes to mind.
I am about to go to bed and I have these really soft t-shirt sheets. They let me hide away from the world. I snuggle up inthem and make a cocoon and read or sleep or relax or cry or smile or whatever in them. I
Layers upon layers of worn and yellowed pages filled the coliseum
one sheet of paper. i can do so much, write down my music or poem. write him a note to say how much i love him. crumple it up and waste another chance…
one who earns
music. i have some stairway to heaven sheet music. my cat puked on it. i was pissed. then i never let her in my room again. she died last year. i miss that cat. her name was sunstar. i got it from these my little pony movies i used to watch. i was like 7. i’m almost 20 now.
He picked up the sheet of paper, turning it over as if expecting content to magically appear on it. Not that that would be far fetched in this world. “So. . .why is she carrying around a blank sheet of pink paper? Does it do anything?”
“Not as far as we can tell,” she replied.
I laid the sheet over the coffin. I coughed out a cry and backed away. Everyone stared at me, felt horribly for the innocent girl who never got to say sorry. Time ran out, as it always does. And the definition of us had faded away.