Withered. The leaves were withered and limp. Like they hadn’t gotten enough water in days. But then the sun came out, and the leaves perked up. New. Fresh. Pungent.
strange coincidence. received a poem with “withered” in its title in my inbox this morning. strange coincidence, strange intersection. blooming like a flaming car accident.
It withered and died on the windowsill. The dirt underneath it was cracked and dried, choking the life out of it. Like an old woman’s hand. The life leaking out till its paper.
the way she had withered away, was breathtaking. After knowing her for 4 years, I’ve never seen her this sick. The eating disorder was winning, who knows how much time was left.
OUr relationship had withered away in to nothing. we had went our seperate ways but seeing her now opened my eyes to something that could be rekindled, become something that neither of us could have imagines
Old people. I think of age obviously and of death. Like dying roses in a vase that someone needs to throw out. I am terrified of getting old more so than actually dying. I don’t want to be held back from my wishes by my broken down body.
Josie looked at the ugly thing in the flower pot. The plant had withered and died over the weekend, and now it looked like a burnt and collapsed tower. The thought reminded her of her city made of building blocks, which the cat had tyrannically blundered through. A young and distressed Josie clutched at her short chocolate locks when she realized that both her plant and her toy city were destroyed.
No room in the darkness left for light
I was once strong; and now I’m tired
I am a bird, but they cut off both my wings
The words are people on a page going wandering
And I forgot how to hold a hand
And I can’t remember what it was that did this anyway
My life is winter snow in fragments all around
Can’t you see the decay, I’ve already drowned
I’m floating, floating, floating like the dead girl
No one realises we’re all just living meat
I’ve been rotting since the day I was conceived
So I don’t want to fight
The white rose had withered a long time ago, but Delilah had not removed it from the slender swan-necked vase. So the petals crackled and crinkled and wrinkled until they snapped off the graying steam, drifting downward with the color and texture of old autumn leaves, dusting the tablecloth with feverish spring dreams. Delilah sat in her chair and watched the flower die, sniffing loudly before returning to her book.
A heart, withered and scorched
Beats failing and weak
Floundering for air it lurches
And bumps
Along this fated journey
This dusty path
To a shore that no longer
Houses the traveler
She sat on the divan in her yellow taffeta staring at the frisee salad. It wilted as the hours passed and the doorbell stood still. Finally, she turned off the porch light and climbed the stairs to bed.
The tree withered throughout its life. It was sad to see. It had been a beautiful tree when Tony was a child. But as he grew up, and life became dull, so too did this tree. He felt it represented his life. Dead, old, withered.
Those free roses lasted much longer than anyone would have thought. More than 5 days after I found them in the dumpster they were still standing up straight and tall though the leaves were showing some wear. Wonderful Valentine’s gift from the bodega.
There is a vase on my window sill. It is a little cracked. There are dry flowers in it, because I didn’t put in the water like I usually do once a week. Because my grandmother died, so these flowers should too.
I could see the love draining from her eyes, as she withered in the corner of the hotel room.
What have I done? I gave it all up in a momentary lapse in judgement. A fit of passion. The wrong type of passion.
There’s no going back from this.
Once you’ve struck the one you love, there’s never much more to say.
I have become my father. I can’t help but cry. Even harder than she is. I hate myself for stealing that from her.
What now? I can’t bear the thought.
The roses slowly withered and died from not being cared for. Sally knew that she could have taken so much better care of her mother’s roses. Now they have totally died.
flowers wither, the life slowly evaporating from them, draining out the roots and into the ground. breaking down and rearranging, gaining nutrients and growing; sprouting.
I leaped up onto the patio, placing myself on the withered platform, prepared for what was to come. I swiftly swept a tear from my cheek and pulled myself the fuck together within three short chest aching breaths. I am ready.
The rose you gave me sat in my windowsill for a couple of weeks before it withered. It reminded me of your feelings for me that also withered a while ago. It shouldn’t bother me now because it’s been so long, but it hurts all the same.
She clutched it to her chest, the old withered, useless thing, and begged for them not to touch her again; not to hurt her again. Please– they had already taken her livelihood; please, please, would they spare her life?
The only response she heard was their laughter, and in it she heard that last resounding answer: NO.
the air smelled new
and the leaves looked as if they had adopted
original colors, all their own
flowers bloomed with fervor
vibrantly illuminated against a neon sky
as winter withered in the shade
My heart withered away each day as I watched you with her. I would not allow my smile to fade, I wouldn’t let you see me for how I really was, and what I really felt, all because she made you smile like there was never anything wrong in the world.
Trees, branches the cold winter manifested itself upon me. All around I could only see the gnarled twisted shapes of those I had hurt, and yet there was no hope. No light, no smoke, only death and cold. The cruel atmosphere was an iridescent reminder of all that I had attained; despair.
I withered away in my sleep last night
In my dreams I was with you
My dreams are over now.
We’re just ghosts in space
Beings, who have Withered away
Only love remains.
as i looked deep into his eyes i could see that he had no comprehension of what he had just done,its like his soul had slowly withered and died away ,from all those years of reckless living,he really dint understand consequencies but he was about to—
The plant withered. I forgot to water it. My mom asked me to. I forgot. Maybe I’ll wither too. Maybe I deserve it. I forgot to water it, after all. My mom will find out. Should I buy her a new one? Maybe I can water it and it will revive! Water makes everything better, right? The poor plant… Look how it sits… It turned out. It only needed a little sunlight.
Withered like my mother’s hands. She has the same hands as me and one day I know that mine will be as withered as hers. It is like looking into the future, and sometimes it scares me and sometimes it comforts me. Knowing just what I will be. And knowing what she used to be.
The flower bent its head and sighed. The dark was rising once again and with it the cold and deadly frost. The flower knew it would not be long before its leaves withered and its blossoms died. That was life. Over, and over, and over again.
When I planted my first bud, I was so proud of it.
The rain was set just right, and as Mr. Weatherman had predicted, clouds started spitting rain in the evening. I did not think water would wither the flowers like they did.
trees wither when the have no water. you need water to live. wither therefore is the opposite of life, the act of dying, a trees last act of living is the death it receives in withering
I am these days, especially emotionally, i shouldnt be, only 19 but everything is tired. tired of smiles, and lies, truth and work. just tired like really just want to give up so so withered
Withered. The leaves were withered and limp. Like they hadn’t gotten enough water in days. But then the sun came out, and the leaves perked up. New. Fresh. Pungent.
strange coincidence. received a poem with “withered” in its title in my inbox this morning. strange coincidence, strange intersection. blooming like a flaming car accident.
It withered and died on the windowsill. The dirt underneath it was cracked and dried, choking the life out of it. Like an old woman’s hand. The life leaking out till its paper.
the way she had withered away, was breathtaking. After knowing her for 4 years, I’ve never seen her this sick. The eating disorder was winning, who knows how much time was left.
OUr relationship had withered away in to nothing. we had went our seperate ways but seeing her now opened my eyes to something that could be rekindled, become something that neither of us could have imagines
Old people. I think of age obviously and of death. Like dying roses in a vase that someone needs to throw out. I am terrified of getting old more so than actually dying. I don’t want to be held back from my wishes by my broken down body.
Josie looked at the ugly thing in the flower pot. The plant had withered and died over the weekend, and now it looked like a burnt and collapsed tower. The thought reminded her of her city made of building blocks, which the cat had tyrannically blundered through. A young and distressed Josie clutched at her short chocolate locks when she realized that both her plant and her toy city were destroyed.
No room in the darkness left for light
I was once strong; and now I’m tired
I am a bird, but they cut off both my wings
The words are people on a page going wandering
And I forgot how to hold a hand
And I can’t remember what it was that did this anyway
My life is winter snow in fragments all around
Can’t you see the decay, I’ve already drowned
I’m floating, floating, floating like the dead girl
No one realises we’re all just living meat
I’ve been rotting since the day I was conceived
So I don’t want to fight
Anymore
The white rose had withered a long time ago, but Delilah had not removed it from the slender swan-necked vase. So the petals crackled and crinkled and wrinkled until they snapped off the graying steam, drifting downward with the color and texture of old autumn leaves, dusting the tablecloth with feverish spring dreams. Delilah sat in her chair and watched the flower die, sniffing loudly before returning to her book.
A heart, withered and scorched
Beats failing and weak
Floundering for air it lurches
And bumps
Along this fated journey
This dusty path
To a shore that no longer
Houses the traveler
I get so withered watching you. You wear me out. How are you able to do what you do?
She sat on the divan in her yellow taffeta staring at the frisee salad. It wilted as the hours passed and the doorbell stood still. Finally, she turned off the porch light and climbed the stairs to bed.
The petal falls down into the pool, causing ripples to flow. However, the rose’s withered pstalk will never live
The tree withered throughout its life. It was sad to see. It had been a beautiful tree when Tony was a child. But as he grew up, and life became dull, so too did this tree. He felt it represented his life. Dead, old, withered.
Those free roses lasted much longer than anyone would have thought. More than 5 days after I found them in the dumpster they were still standing up straight and tall though the leaves were showing some wear. Wonderful Valentine’s gift from the bodega.
There is a vase on my window sill. It is a little cracked. There are dry flowers in it, because I didn’t put in the water like I usually do once a week. Because my grandmother died, so these flowers should too.
I could see the love draining from her eyes, as she withered in the corner of the hotel room.
What have I done? I gave it all up in a momentary lapse in judgement. A fit of passion. The wrong type of passion.
There’s no going back from this.
Once you’ve struck the one you love, there’s never much more to say.
I have become my father. I can’t help but cry. Even harder than she is. I hate myself for stealing that from her.
What now? I can’t bear the thought.
I don’t know what that word means. I will found out, soon, thankful for the internet :)
The roses slowly withered and died from not being cared for. Sally knew that she could have taken so much better care of her mother’s roses. Now they have totally died.
flowers wither, the life slowly evaporating from them, draining out the roots and into the ground. breaking down and rearranging, gaining nutrients and growing; sprouting.
I leaped up onto the patio, placing myself on the withered platform, prepared for what was to come. I swiftly swept a tear from my cheek and pulled myself the fuck together within three short chest aching breaths. I am ready.
The rose you gave me sat in my windowsill for a couple of weeks before it withered. It reminded me of your feelings for me that also withered a while ago. It shouldn’t bother me now because it’s been so long, but it hurts all the same.
She clutched it to her chest, the old withered, useless thing, and begged for them not to touch her again; not to hurt her again. Please– they had already taken her livelihood; please, please, would they spare her life?
The only response she heard was their laughter, and in it she heard that last resounding answer: NO.
the air smelled new
and the leaves looked as if they had adopted
original colors, all their own
flowers bloomed with fervor
vibrantly illuminated against a neon sky
as winter withered in the shade
My heart withered away each day as I watched you with her. I would not allow my smile to fade, I wouldn’t let you see me for how I really was, and what I really felt, all because she made you smile like there was never anything wrong in the world.
the withered old tree has seen many lifetimes go by in her own life. but she still has arms for the world to hold onto. She still see’s many things.
Trees, branches the cold winter manifested itself upon me. All around I could only see the gnarled twisted shapes of those I had hurt, and yet there was no hope. No light, no smoke, only death and cold. The cruel atmosphere was an iridescent reminder of all that I had attained; despair.
I withered away in my sleep last night
In my dreams I was with you
My dreams are over now.
We’re just ghosts in space
Beings, who have Withered away
Only love remains.
i have withered
i am an old leaf
an old song
long gone
long forgotten
a memory that has fallen
quietly to the ground and now lays
crunched under the feet of school children
laying broken on the floor, the vase lay shattered. the flowers withered and died, while her body cooled.
as i looked deep into his eyes i could see that he had no comprehension of what he had just done,its like his soul had slowly withered and died away ,from all those years of reckless living,he really dint understand consequencies but he was about to—
The plant withered. I forgot to water it. My mom asked me to. I forgot. Maybe I’ll wither too. Maybe I deserve it. I forgot to water it, after all. My mom will find out. Should I buy her a new one? Maybe I can water it and it will revive! Water makes everything better, right? The poor plant… Look how it sits… It turned out. It only needed a little sunlight.
Green to brown
Life ended
Withered away
Forever
Withered like my mother’s hands. She has the same hands as me and one day I know that mine will be as withered as hers. It is like looking into the future, and sometimes it scares me and sometimes it comforts me. Knowing just what I will be. And knowing what she used to be.
The flower bent its head and sighed. The dark was rising once again and with it the cold and deadly frost. The flower knew it would not be long before its leaves withered and its blossoms died. That was life. Over, and over, and over again.
When I planted my first bud, I was so proud of it.
The rain was set just right, and as Mr. Weatherman had predicted, clouds started spitting rain in the evening. I did not think water would wither the flowers like they did.
Withered as the daylight that dies when sunset comes.
trees wither when the have no water. you need water to live. wither therefore is the opposite of life, the act of dying, a trees last act of living is the death it receives in withering
a withered flower lays in front of me.
and i don’t know if that is sad or
simply beautiful
I am these days, especially emotionally, i shouldnt be, only 19 but everything is tired. tired of smiles, and lies, truth and work. just tired like really just want to give up so so withered