I’m tangled in you. Your hair is so smooth and my hands drift through it. Being so stuck in this bed with you my legs so far from yours, wanting to move closer and tie knots with you.
i think of the movie.
i think of my hair
i think of the vaccum cord
i think of the branches when its windy
i think of other peoples hair
i think of other peoples vaccum cords
i think of other peoples branches when its windy
i think of storms….
why am i getting sidetracked?
hurhurhurrrrrrrrrrrrrhu
Tangle traps me. It has decided my fate and yet, if I try I can break it. After all if the tangle is paper it will be easily destroyed. My existence will be free.
My hair knotted in a bun brushing through but *tangled* caught on the brush in my hair my hairbrush brushing my hair caught in the knot of the tangle. I pull-rip-drag-kickingandscreamingandfinallyoutcomes. my hair.
a tangle is a bunch of things that are tangled into eachother like wool or bits of string that get tangled together. the main advantege of tangling is that it makes the th
i feel tangled up in this world that’s been created around me. i don’t know how it started to form, but it just kept growing. the only way to get out is to cut at the strands around me, but that could damage them permanently.
The vines hurt. The tangled my fragile body into a very uncomfortable knot. I was hurt and scraped by the harsh vine crashing down on me. My body was in pain. My body was dead.
Tangled up like two shoe laces that havent been tended to or the string of a yoyo that been overplayed with. Tangled up like the ribbons in your hair or the thoughts in my head.
My fingers are tangled up in many strings. Strings that hang from the ceiling and intentionally tangle anyone who encounters them. I tried to avoid this room but I must pass through it each morning before I start my day. Some days I get so frustrated I cannot go to work or out to play. So I have to wait to try another day.
you get in a tangle when you have to think about the word tangle… first i think of knots… then spots… now rhymes… see i get into a tangle when i think about tangle it makes my head tingle.
I was tangled up in the tree branches as I jumped to my safety. The tree was hard and it hurt my fragile bones as they crushed under the branches. I was tangled up in the harsh, hard branches of the tree that killed my life at only the age of 8.
I am in knots. I am tied up with my ends bring pulled in opposite directions and no way to get free. There are bodies on the floor, and I don’t know which parts belong to me and which belong to other people. All I know is that I am stuck, tangled in this mess I got myself into.
her hair, wavy and full of burrs, was caught on the branches, every strand, every loop, attached itself to the individual bumps and snag on the branch, until her hair and tree were no longer separate, but one being.
How is it that the first thing that popped into my mind was a Disney movie?
Usually I’m much dirtier than this… usually, I’d have said “wow, what a tangle of limbs THAT adventure turned out to be!” or something even more sexualized….
but today?
No. “Isn’t that some kind of Rapunzel movie?”
My life is tangled. My parents are divorced and I never get along with my sister. I have trouble making it through high school but I hold my head high because I know I can succeed and make it. Thank god we have a new stepfather and a new family to be happy with.
the lies make me uncertain as to where lies the truth now. i think about how simple things used to be before you. before the webs were made and the knots were tied. now everything is a mess. tangle.
I hate my hair. Seriously. I mean, it’s impossible to keep it from tangling when I’m constantly flying all over the place. I would cut it short, if I were a boy. So needless to say I’m almost always wearing a ponytail. Ugh. Having wings can be a pain.
confused, woods, trees. you can get tangled up in your life too. and in lies. people get tangled in lies a lot. living this facade that’s not really them. you say you don’t understand why people do it, but you do. life sucks. so you lie. then you get tangled.
darling, the tangle of your hair between my fingers makes me sigh to see how threadbare you really are. You never eat and the thin locks you call honey due are falling out in clumps, I am afraid to touch your head for fear of hurting you.
whenever i feel nervous i tend to tangle my hair. thinking more about it, i do it more often when i am bored but i need to keep looking seemingly interested. then sometimes, it is uneasy to untangle my boredom afterwards.
The tangle of wet curls fit softly into the cup of my hand and I held it there near her sleeping eyes and the warmth of her small cheek like a line drawing of my palm into which good fortune was spelled in lettered lines.
My hair is always tangled. It’s curly, thick, tangled. My father always used to make fun of me – who did your hair? a lawn mower? a blender? My hair waves. It hurts to brush it, so I have a thick skull out of necessity. My hair is a mess. And not the good kind.
My hair. It’s always tangled. It comes with the curls. I don’t even try to prevent it anymore. It’s inevitable. I just let it happen and accept it for what it is. That’s how life is. You have to accept things, especially yourself. Love yourself. Because if you don’t, who will?
once i got tangled in a bunch of rope and i couldnt get out. i like the word tangle cuz its a very cool word that can be used in different ways. you could be tangled in thoughts emothions feelings or litterally tangled in tons of shit. i hate when i get tangled emotionaly it makes me sad..
tangling up in things in problems and other things that fuck you up. a lot of times you get tangled up in wires and things that trip you up and are there to make you fall and just piss you up. but sometimes you trip and fall and come across something wonderful. that’s why you get tangled to find your way out again.
forests and woods and vines and i see angle in it and the word tan which reminds me of jarhead because of the color of sand and sand reminds me of ampersand which reminds me i’m writing a lot of ands ands ands ands ands which is a scrambled up version of sand :0!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and legs. it kind of remninds me of legs.
my life is like a tangle sometimes its not that bad and other times its a huge not and it hurts and it hurts alot of people because it makes us all mad. tangles are annoying just like life is sometimes.
you can tie it
your hair can do itt
it rymes with angle
my hair tangles on a daily basis and it bothers me like alot and i bet it would bother any normal person
My hair. It’s always tangled. There’s no use in trying to prevent it from happening, because it’s inevitable. I’ve learned to just accept it for what it is. I embrace it. There’s no use in doing anything else. You have to take yourself for the good and the bad. Love everything about you. Because if you don’t, who will?
I’m tangled in a mess of my own emotions. I’m not even sure what I want anymore. I like college, but I’m tangled in the complexities of it all. I want to be out there, living my life. I don’t want to wait to be alive, I want to be alive now. I want to get tangled in the road that’s before me, and I’m ok with not getting untangled right away. i want to be tangled the way I want to be tangled.
She fell, wide eyed with a eery expression of fright. Screamed, loud enough to pierce ear-drums- but no one heard. She fell. She died.
Her brother found her the next morning, a tangle of limbs and clothes. Blood spread out around her like a lake. He straightened her limbs as if that would bring her back to life.
I’m tangled in you. Your hair is so smooth and my hands drift through it. Being so stuck in this bed with you my legs so far from yours, wanting to move closer and tie knots with you.
tangled in bedsheets
like the roots of a tree
one and two become none
all part of the cycle
i think of the movie.
i think of my hair
i think of the vaccum cord
i think of the branches when its windy
i think of other peoples hair
i think of other peoples vaccum cords
i think of other peoples branches when its windy
i think of storms….
why am i getting sidetracked?
hurhurhurrrrrrrrrrrrrhu
Tangle traps me. It has decided my fate and yet, if I try I can break it. After all if the tangle is paper it will be easily destroyed. My existence will be free.
My hair knotted in a bun brushing through but *tangled* caught on the brush in my hair my hairbrush brushing my hair caught in the knot of the tangle. I pull-rip-drag-kickingandscreamingandfinallyoutcomes. my hair.
a tangle is a bunch of things that are tangled into eachother like wool or bits of string that get tangled together. the main advantege of tangling is that it makes the th
You get tangled in all the bad of life. The pain, heart break, and loss. Yet somewhere in those tangles, good seems to peek through.
i feel tangled up in this world that’s been created around me. i don’t know how it started to form, but it just kept growing. the only way to get out is to cut at the strands around me, but that could damage them permanently.
The vines hurt. The tangled my fragile body into a very uncomfortable knot. I was hurt and scraped by the harsh vine crashing down on me. My body was in pain. My body was dead.
Tangled up like two shoe laces that havent been tended to or the string of a yoyo that been overplayed with. Tangled up like the ribbons in your hair or the thoughts in my head.
My fingers are tangled up in many strings. Strings that hang from the ceiling and intentionally tangle anyone who encounters them. I tried to avoid this room but I must pass through it each morning before I start my day. Some days I get so frustrated I cannot go to work or out to play. So I have to wait to try another day.
you get in a tangle when you have to think about the word tangle… first i think of knots… then spots… now rhymes… see i get into a tangle when i think about tangle it makes my head tingle.
I was tangled up in the tree branches as I jumped to my safety. The tree was hard and it hurt my fragile bones as they crushed under the branches. I was tangled up in the harsh, hard branches of the tree that killed my life at only the age of 8.
I am in knots. I am tied up with my ends bring pulled in opposite directions and no way to get free. There are bodies on the floor, and I don’t know which parts belong to me and which belong to other people. All I know is that I am stuck, tangled in this mess I got myself into.
her hair, wavy and full of burrs, was caught on the branches, every strand, every loop, attached itself to the individual bumps and snag on the branch, until her hair and tree were no longer separate, but one being.
I tried to comb my tangled hair. I realize it was no use trying to because it was just creating more knots.
How is it that the first thing that popped into my mind was a Disney movie?
Usually I’m much dirtier than this… usually, I’d have said “wow, what a tangle of limbs THAT adventure turned out to be!” or something even more sexualized….
but today?
No. “Isn’t that some kind of Rapunzel movie?”
My life is tangled. My parents are divorced and I never get along with my sister. I have trouble making it through high school but I hold my head high because I know I can succeed and make it. Thank god we have a new stepfather and a new family to be happy with.
She walked through the woods and walked into a tangle of vines that draped down in front of her blocking her path.
the lies make me uncertain as to where lies the truth now. i think about how simple things used to be before you. before the webs were made and the knots were tied. now everything is a mess. tangle.
I hate my hair. Seriously. I mean, it’s impossible to keep it from tangling when I’m constantly flying all over the place. I would cut it short, if I were a boy. So needless to say I’m almost always wearing a ponytail. Ugh. Having wings can be a pain.
tangleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeejsndfjsdjfsdfskf ah bueno ya habia hecho estooo… la la la la la la la en marg. hey
confused, woods, trees. you can get tangled up in your life too. and in lies. people get tangled in lies a lot. living this facade that’s not really them. you say you don’t understand why people do it, but you do. life sucks. so you lie. then you get tangled.
Our fingers entwined. Our tongues when they find each other. Your hand in my hair. My mind.
darling, the tangle of your hair between my fingers makes me sigh to see how threadbare you really are. You never eat and the thin locks you call honey due are falling out in clumps, I am afraid to touch your head for fear of hurting you.
whenever i feel nervous i tend to tangle my hair. thinking more about it, i do it more often when i am bored but i need to keep looking seemingly interested. then sometimes, it is uneasy to untangle my boredom afterwards.
The tangle of wet curls fit softly into the cup of my hand and I held it there near her sleeping eyes and the warmth of her small cheek like a line drawing of my palm into which good fortune was spelled in lettered lines.
My hair is always tangled. It’s curly, thick, tangled. My father always used to make fun of me – who did your hair? a lawn mower? a blender? My hair waves. It hurts to brush it, so I have a thick skull out of necessity. My hair is a mess. And not the good kind.
My hair. It’s always tangled. It comes with the curls. I don’t even try to prevent it anymore. It’s inevitable. I just let it happen and accept it for what it is. That’s how life is. You have to accept things, especially yourself. Love yourself. Because if you don’t, who will?
messy spag bol. My hair after the bath. Passionate lovers’ tongues and fingers entwined. Necklaces in a little girls treasure box. Weeds and rope.
life is like a tangle sometimes its a big knot and sometimes its a small one. tangles eventually come out with a lot of force and pain.
once i got tangled in a bunch of rope and i couldnt get out. i like the word tangle cuz its a very cool word that can be used in different ways. you could be tangled in thoughts emothions feelings or litterally tangled in tons of shit. i hate when i get tangled emotionaly it makes me sad..
tangling up in things in problems and other things that fuck you up. a lot of times you get tangled up in wires and things that trip you up and are there to make you fall and just piss you up. but sometimes you trip and fall and come across something wonderful. that’s why you get tangled to find your way out again.
forests and woods and vines and i see angle in it and the word tan which reminds me of jarhead because of the color of sand and sand reminds me of ampersand which reminds me i’m writing a lot of ands ands ands ands ands which is a scrambled up version of sand :0!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and legs. it kind of remninds me of legs.
my life is like a tangle sometimes its not that bad and other times its a huge not and it hurts and it hurts alot of people because it makes us all mad. tangles are annoying just like life is sometimes.
Fabulous is my word for the year. I see myself tangled up in so many different projects, in a quest to be the best me that I can be. I hav
you can tie it
your hair can do itt
it rymes with angle
my hair tangles on a daily basis and it bothers me like alot and i bet it would bother any normal person
My hair. It’s always tangled. There’s no use in trying to prevent it from happening, because it’s inevitable. I’ve learned to just accept it for what it is. I embrace it. There’s no use in doing anything else. You have to take yourself for the good and the bad. Love everything about you. Because if you don’t, who will?
I’m tangled in a mess of my own emotions. I’m not even sure what I want anymore. I like college, but I’m tangled in the complexities of it all. I want to be out there, living my life. I don’t want to wait to be alive, I want to be alive now. I want to get tangled in the road that’s before me, and I’m ok with not getting untangled right away. i want to be tangled the way I want to be tangled.
She fell, wide eyed with a eery expression of fright. Screamed, loud enough to pierce ear-drums- but no one heard. She fell. She died.
Her brother found her the next morning, a tangle of limbs and clothes. Blood spread out around her like a lake. He straightened her limbs as if that would bring her back to life.