Drip with frustration as he
walks out the door
slams shut and you are sitting there
guessing where he’ll go
and your throat is sore from the
argument and your voice is shaking
as you pray and the tears just
fall from your eyes like
lost words you should’ve said.
I went walking around campus abashed by the notion that my emotions may be seen. I then sit down for lunch with roommates and my so called girlfriend comes over and kisses me on the cheek at which point my face turns very red and I sweat pretty terribly.
it’s not the light from the window or the heater on full blast it’s him. it’s him on her. if she could move she’d tell him how good it was to sweat after holding it in for so long. an afternoon tryst after an eternity of mornings. lately life was all mornings. lunch was always late breakfast, dinner late lunch. night was a mess of blurry dreams and there was no time to decipher them in the dawn darkness. but now she could feel the restorative tickle of a trickle of sweat…
The gun sweats after a bullet rips through the air
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up
Rise to the sound of the glock blasts from a gangsters past
I cant put the nails in the coffin of a fallen brother
my hood,my tears, my sweat
Chuck Norris doesn’t sweat. That’s because he is epic. He doesn’t have to sweat, and sweat doesn’t have to Chuck Norris. This doesn’t make sense. Sweat stains look nasty. Sweat stains smell nasty. Sweat stains are nasty. Deodorant prevents sweat.
the feel of discipline entering my bones. the rapture of knowing I’m pushing myself farther than before. and as the breeze i generate flicks the tip of my ponytail, i feel truly alive. truly one with who i am.
His body was covered with sweat after he had just finished vanquishing his opponent on the mat. He walked off with sweat dripping off his body, sweat rolling from his eyes. He didn’t cry; his eyes sweat too. and as he walked from the mat he looked back only to see the silhouette of himself with his arm raised.,
The sweat poured off her body as she swung the tennis racket through the air. The ball hit, and spun again towards her opponent. Sunlight flashed through her closed eyelids, and the crowd’s roar drowned out the announcer.
the sensual scent dripped from his body like sweat. Down poured a flow of orgasmic sensation followed with a wave of pleasure and a shiver as droplets fell from his forehead, her neck… small condensations of sweat mingled to create a wonderland of swirling sexual energy.
Oh wie süß sind die kleinen schwarzen Löcher in deinen Zähnen von all den Bonbons, den Lutschern, der Zuckerwatte, den Mohnschnecken. Winzig kleine Würmer kommen und fressen das Weiße nach und nach, so lange bis nur noch kleine gelbschwarze Stummel übrig sind, die verglüen werden, wenn der Komet die Erde trifft.
perspiration that everyone judges because of the smell and uncomfortableness of it. but it actually saves you from overheating and dying. i personally like it. i like sweating when i have to. it let’s me know that my body is awake and doing what it needs to do without any direct movements i guess.
I also just like the word in general. S-W-E-A-T. it can be seen as a disgusting word. people would say “incest” in the same tone as sweat. it’s very literal. You sweat doing the funnest things. You can also seat during the most boring things. You sweat when you’re playing basketball. Having sex. Moshing at a balls out concert. You sweat when you’re sitting in a hot room. Having a bad dream at night makes you toss and turn on your damp pillow, making your hair stick to your neck and forehead. You sweat when you’re waiting for a teacher to call you up to do your presentation in front of the class. You just sit there. Sweating. You sweat and it makes you feel like there’s something wrong. “This annoying piece of shit reaction. But most everyone does it. It’s ok.
Sweat pants and sweat shirts are so comfortable. There are many uses and advantages to wearing them. However, they do not replace trousers, jeans or dress pants or shirts, sweaters or dress tops; “there is a time and place for everything” always comes to my mind when I see people wearing them in inappropriate circumstances.
oh my god, will this meeting never end? Do we have to sweat every single little detail? Let us each do our jobs, trust us to work, or not, but please, this endless quibbling is killing me. I am tired of the bickering, tired of the talk, just tired. I want to go to the gym and engage in honest sweat, not this minutae that makes us all queasy.
She could feel his body pressed up against her, hot and kissed with sweat. She could feel his heavy breaths wash against the back of her neck as his hands slowly traced the hem of her jeans, taunting her, begging her to let him continue. She wanted him, and he wasn’t about to let her forget that.
The sweat dripped down the back of his neck. There was nothing he could do now. It was done. It was done and he was done.
This was it, that defining moment everyone always speaks of, where you choose right or wrong.
He chose wrong.
Sweat smells quite bad, but you can get nice sweat like the kind of sweat you get when you have sex. Sweat comes when you go to the gym and it makes the whole room smell like feet which is disgusting. School gyms smell like seat so I generally associate it with school children. I generally do not like the smell of sweat.
It trickles down your arm like a water droplet. Tangy. Making your skin warmed by the sun taste salty. Pavement, and the sun radiating off the cement in waves that zone through your skin. The sweat drips, splashes and sizzles on the sidewalk.
The sweat lodge sat upon the field, a monument to those who came before and their spiritual victories. Knowlton was ready to enter for the first time — what he hoped would be his last.
The sweat was dripping off of me as I struggled to hold onto his hand.
“James…” I gasped.
“Lenora. Let me go.”
“No! I won’t!”
But even as I said it he slipped further. Sweat mixed with tears, “I won’t let go of you!”
“You have to!” he yelled then got quieter, “Nora…I’ll be fine. It’s going to be okay. You have to take care of yourself. Get out of here.”
Everything went dark for a moment, I blinked wildly pushing away unconsiousness.
“No!”
“Yes.” he replied calmly.
And let go.
My heart stopped and faster than ever before the blue took me, sweeping me up in the embrace and sheer power and destruction. I held nothing back, I let the blue take me. Why would I stop what would save him?
My body flew unbidden into the air where we shone. Together the blue and I-was there even an I anymore?-shone like a star.
We saw Philip watch our ascent and then we felt the fear begin to pour from him.
We relished it.
James rose above the cliff’s edge and we set him lightly on the ground before switching back to Philip.
“Philip.” said the layered voice, “You have messed with powers higher than yourself. We can feel the fear you emanate. Do you fear me?”
Philip took it in stride, “I fear nothing. And I believe that you’re not as mighty as you may pretend.”
We laughed and it seemed to crack the air, “You lie? To me? How pointless.”
We strode through the air and each step made the sky vibrate and ripple like a pond.
“Do you see how we walk small one? Even the very sky is afraid. And you are not? Every part of the world is made up of strings. Infinitesimally small strings. And every movement you make, every time you blink you move them. And I know.
So do not hide from me.”
It rolled down her forehead. It dripped into her eyes. She blinked it out. There was no way something as small as sweat would get in her way. Not this time. Not this race.
Her muscles ached, but she heaved forward with every ragged breath. The finish line was before her. Almost there. One more step. One more beat in her wild heart. One more second. One more lunge.
It was a cold, dark night. I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I thought wrong. I didn’t know then want I know now. I just don’t know.
I was told one thing before I left the party. Sweat.
What did it all mean? The woman said it, the man said it, the old lady said it.
What did it all mean?
Then i just jumped off the roof..splat
heart is a muster of clogged words that form in my chest,
hang on my teeth and
spill out my mouth.
if only this cancer that
inhabits me would leave
for a day
i’d be able to
move closer
to you.
heart is a muster of clogged words that form in my chest,
hang on my teeth and
spill out my mouth
if only this cancer that
inhabits me would leave
for a day
i’d be able to
move closer
to you.
Sweat candy are made for folks to get addicted to fairy tales. Yes, they have the kind of psicological ability to make you believe that you will live happily ever after. Sadly, that’s pure bullshit. Sorry
Sweat is the body’s way of telling me something exciting is happening. I sweat when I’m nervous. I sweat when I’m scared. I sweat when I orgasm. When my fiance and my sweat slide between our bodies during our randy moments there’s nothing better. Sweat is exciting.
She awoke with a start, wondering what how long she had been asleep. Glancing toward the bed, she saw he was kicking at his covers, his hair dripping with sweat. She raced to the call button and requested a cold compress, asked if it was time for more medication.
I couldn’t believe the sweat that was pouring down my face. I had done this a million times before…why is this time any different?? As I grasped onto the paper in my hands, the sweat absorbed into the fibers, and made the ink illegible.
Running. Love. Hot. Sun. Pain. Effort. Running. Athletics.I tried. I worked with my heart. I pushed deep. Sweat and blood. And tears. I did it. I am wonderful. Run. Faster. Go on!
The sweat dripped down my back, down my face. I ran as fast as i could, as far as i could. I was running from something, but i didn;t know what it was. Fear, saddness… I was running and all i had to show for it was a shirt drenched in sweat. Drenched in sweat and hope for a better day.
it was a sizzling hot day Mid-July, and I could feel the sun pressing down on me, suffocating me in sunshine. Droplets formed above my upper lip, and with a dirty hand I brushed them away. My forehead was red in the direct sunlight, and my shirt stuck to my back. Summer work was never enjoyable for anyone, especially this high schooler, just trying to make some extra cash.
The sweat trickled down Marty’s back, making him itch. But he couldn’t move, he couldn’t so much as twitch, or he’d be discovered. He sat, itching and sweating. Waiting.
Lots of working out and stuff. It smells bad, kind of like water trying to punch our nose in the face.
Drip with frustration as he
walks out the door
slams shut and you are sitting there
guessing where he’ll go
and your throat is sore from the
argument and your voice is shaking
as you pray and the tears just
fall from your eyes like
lost words you should’ve said.
I went walking around campus abashed by the notion that my emotions may be seen. I then sit down for lunch with roommates and my so called girlfriend comes over and kisses me on the cheek at which point my face turns very red and I sweat pretty terribly.
it’s not the light from the window or the heater on full blast it’s him. it’s him on her. if she could move she’d tell him how good it was to sweat after holding it in for so long. an afternoon tryst after an eternity of mornings. lately life was all mornings. lunch was always late breakfast, dinner late lunch. night was a mess of blurry dreams and there was no time to decipher them in the dawn darkness. but now she could feel the restorative tickle of a trickle of sweat…
The gun sweats after a bullet rips through the air
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up
Rise to the sound of the glock blasts from a gangsters past
I cant put the nails in the coffin of a fallen brother
my hood,my tears, my sweat
Chuck Norris doesn’t sweat. That’s because he is epic. He doesn’t have to sweat, and sweat doesn’t have to Chuck Norris. This doesn’t make sense. Sweat stains look nasty. Sweat stains smell nasty. Sweat stains are nasty. Deodorant prevents sweat.
the feel of discipline entering my bones. the rapture of knowing I’m pushing myself farther than before. and as the breeze i generate flicks the tip of my ponytail, i feel truly alive. truly one with who i am.
His body was covered with sweat after he had just finished vanquishing his opponent on the mat. He walked off with sweat dripping off his body, sweat rolling from his eyes. He didn’t cry; his eyes sweat too. and as he walked from the mat he looked back only to see the silhouette of himself with his arm raised.,
The sweat poured off her body as she swung the tennis racket through the air. The ball hit, and spun again towards her opponent. Sunlight flashed through her closed eyelids, and the crowd’s roar drowned out the announcer.
sweat seat
heart leak
underwater preach-
er pounding to the beat
drip up your neck onto your thighs
sting your eyes, worthless surprise
the sensual scent dripped from his body like sweat. Down poured a flow of orgasmic sensation followed with a wave of pleasure and a shiver as droplets fell from his forehead, her neck… small condensations of sweat mingled to create a wonderland of swirling sexual energy.
Oh wie süß sind die kleinen schwarzen Löcher in deinen Zähnen von all den Bonbons, den Lutschern, der Zuckerwatte, den Mohnschnecken. Winzig kleine Würmer kommen und fressen das Weiße nach und nach, so lange bis nur noch kleine gelbschwarze Stummel übrig sind, die verglüen werden, wenn der Komet die Erde trifft.
cold, pulsing epidermis on your forehead.
night. sheets. tangled sheets, misty dreams, foggy dew on the arch of your back.
perspiration that everyone judges because of the smell and uncomfortableness of it. but it actually saves you from overheating and dying. i personally like it. i like sweating when i have to. it let’s me know that my body is awake and doing what it needs to do without any direct movements i guess.
I also just like the word in general. S-W-E-A-T. it can be seen as a disgusting word. people would say “incest” in the same tone as sweat. it’s very literal. You sweat doing the funnest things. You can also seat during the most boring things. You sweat when you’re playing basketball. Having sex. Moshing at a balls out concert. You sweat when you’re sitting in a hot room. Having a bad dream at night makes you toss and turn on your damp pillow, making your hair stick to your neck and forehead. You sweat when you’re waiting for a teacher to call you up to do your presentation in front of the class. You just sit there. Sweating. You sweat and it makes you feel like there’s something wrong. “This annoying piece of shit reaction. But most everyone does it. It’s ok.
The beads of sweat cascaded down his back. His muscles strained under the weight. His teeth clenched as he felt tendons pull and begin to tear.
Sweat pants and sweat shirts are so comfortable. There are many uses and advantages to wearing them. However, they do not replace trousers, jeans or dress pants or shirts, sweaters or dress tops; “there is a time and place for everything” always comes to my mind when I see people wearing them in inappropriate circumstances.
sweat baby , sweat. she said this over and over to her self as she circled the gym. sweat baby, sweat. it’s fat crying. sweat baby, sweat. sweat. sw
oh my god, will this meeting never end? Do we have to sweat every single little detail? Let us each do our jobs, trust us to work, or not, but please, this endless quibbling is killing me. I am tired of the bickering, tired of the talk, just tired. I want to go to the gym and engage in honest sweat, not this minutae that makes us all queasy.
She could feel his body pressed up against her, hot and kissed with sweat. She could feel his heavy breaths wash against the back of her neck as his hands slowly traced the hem of her jeans, taunting her, begging her to let him continue. She wanted him, and he wasn’t about to let her forget that.
blood sweat and tears, that what it took me to get that sculpture up the stairs. a sculpture i did not even like, but i got it and he did not
The sweat dripped down the back of his neck. There was nothing he could do now. It was done. It was done and he was done.
This was it, that defining moment everyone always speaks of, where you choose right or wrong.
He chose wrong.
Sweat smells quite bad, but you can get nice sweat like the kind of sweat you get when you have sex. Sweat comes when you go to the gym and it makes the whole room smell like feet which is disgusting. School gyms smell like seat so I generally associate it with school children. I generally do not like the smell of sweat.
It trickles down your arm like a water droplet. Tangy. Making your skin warmed by the sun taste salty. Pavement, and the sun radiating off the cement in waves that zone through your skin. The sweat drips, splashes and sizzles on the sidewalk.
The sweat lodge sat upon the field, a monument to those who came before and their spiritual victories. Knowlton was ready to enter for the first time — what he hoped would be his last.
The sweat was dripping off of me as I struggled to hold onto his hand.
“James…” I gasped.
“Lenora. Let me go.”
“No! I won’t!”
But even as I said it he slipped further. Sweat mixed with tears, “I won’t let go of you!”
“You have to!” he yelled then got quieter, “Nora…I’ll be fine. It’s going to be okay. You have to take care of yourself. Get out of here.”
Everything went dark for a moment, I blinked wildly pushing away unconsiousness.
“No!”
“Yes.” he replied calmly.
And let go.
My heart stopped and faster than ever before the blue took me, sweeping me up in the embrace and sheer power and destruction. I held nothing back, I let the blue take me. Why would I stop what would save him?
My body flew unbidden into the air where we shone. Together the blue and I-was there even an I anymore?-shone like a star.
We saw Philip watch our ascent and then we felt the fear begin to pour from him.
We relished it.
James rose above the cliff’s edge and we set him lightly on the ground before switching back to Philip.
“Philip.” said the layered voice, “You have messed with powers higher than yourself. We can feel the fear you emanate. Do you fear me?”
Philip took it in stride, “I fear nothing. And I believe that you’re not as mighty as you may pretend.”
We laughed and it seemed to crack the air, “You lie? To me? How pointless.”
We strode through the air and each step made the sky vibrate and ripple like a pond.
“Do you see how we walk small one? Even the very sky is afraid. And you are not? Every part of the world is made up of strings. Infinitesimally small strings. And every movement you make, every time you blink you move them. And I know.
So do not hide from me.”
It rolled down her forehead. It dripped into her eyes. She blinked it out. There was no way something as small as sweat would get in her way. Not this time. Not this race.
Her muscles ached, but she heaved forward with every ragged breath. The finish line was before her. Almost there. One more step. One more beat in her wild heart. One more second. One more lunge.
Almost there.
It was a cold, dark night. I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I thought wrong. I didn’t know then want I know now. I just don’t know.
I was told one thing before I left the party. Sweat.
What did it all mean? The woman said it, the man said it, the old lady said it.
What did it all mean?
Then i just jumped off the roof..splat
heart is a muster of clogged words that form in my chest,
hang on my teeth and
spill out my mouth.
if only this cancer that
inhabits me would leave
for a day
i’d be able to
move closer
to you.
hot
soccer
sticky
wet
this happens when i exercise
bad smell
annoying
gym
morning
night
fever
cold
sick
basketball
exercise
work out
sex
heart is a muster of clogged words that form in my chest,
hang on my teeth and
spill out my mouth
if only this cancer that
inhabits me would leave
for a day
i’d be able to
move closer
to you.
Sweat is creating when your body is overheated, so it releases liquids too maintain your body temperature (to cool your body).
Sweat candy are made for folks to get addicted to fairy tales. Yes, they have the kind of psicological ability to make you believe that you will live happily ever after. Sadly, that’s pure bullshit. Sorry
Every time I sweat is a new beginning. A renewal. A time for change! Out with the old, in with the new.
Sweat is the body’s way of telling me something exciting is happening. I sweat when I’m nervous. I sweat when I’m scared. I sweat when I orgasm. When my fiance and my sweat slide between our bodies during our randy moments there’s nothing better. Sweat is exciting.
She awoke with a start, wondering what how long she had been asleep. Glancing toward the bed, she saw he was kicking at his covers, his hair dripping with sweat. She raced to the call button and requested a cold compress, asked if it was time for more medication.
I couldn’t believe the sweat that was pouring down my face. I had done this a million times before…why is this time any different?? As I grasped onto the paper in my hands, the sweat absorbed into the fibers, and made the ink illegible.
Running. Love. Hot. Sun. Pain. Effort. Running. Athletics.I tried. I worked with my heart. I pushed deep. Sweat and blood. And tears. I did it. I am wonderful. Run. Faster. Go on!
The sweat dripped down my back, down my face. I ran as fast as i could, as far as i could. I was running from something, but i didn;t know what it was. Fear, saddness… I was running and all i had to show for it was a shirt drenched in sweat. Drenched in sweat and hope for a better day.
it was a sizzling hot day Mid-July, and I could feel the sun pressing down on me, suffocating me in sunshine. Droplets formed above my upper lip, and with a dirty hand I brushed them away. My forehead was red in the direct sunlight, and my shirt stuck to my back. Summer work was never enjoyable for anyone, especially this high schooler, just trying to make some extra cash.
The sweat trickled down Marty’s back, making him itch. But he couldn’t move, he couldn’t so much as twitch, or he’d be discovered. He sat, itching and sweating. Waiting.