remember that one time on the tree? yeah, you can’t remember it. that’s okay, I do. you never came, that’s why you don’t remember it. you never showed up, even though i told you to come. when you didn’t show up, i carved our initials into that tree. you still don’t know, but i’ve carved you into my heart.
olivia
I carved the initial slowly into my skin. The blossoming pain made me suck in my breath and clench my eyes shut but I continued. It felt bizarre and yet I never wanted it to stop. I knew what I was doing and I loved it.
Jen
The chips and flakes flew off at random angles as he carved away at the stone. Sometimes he thought the parts leaving were the idea he had and what was left was the husk.
When I was younger,
my family and I would go near a river
where a big oak tree grew.
It may be much smaller than I remember,
as I was small myself, and the world seemed so big.
I would climb the tree and read all the initials:
carved into hearts,
carved in the bark.
Though I am older,
The world is still so big,
and I have still never carved my initials with anyone.
Madeleine Silvers
She brought her knife around with a flourish, doing the finishing touches on her wood-carving. It would be a surprise for her boyfriend.
turkey
time carved out of a schedule
wood
bodies
ideas
paul lisbon
A half-crescent hanging among fireballs too far away to care. The trees stripping themselves as the weather grows colder, old initials carved into their trunks. And you, finding your way home before light.
Myona
ugyuiopugt
Nonymous soul
The phone rang, just as the meal was being served. the meat was being carved by the head of the family, well, if you could even call him that. He really was a no good for nothing dad for 364 days of the year
I looked at the tree after he backed away. And there, in all its permanence, was our names carved into the tree. “It’s to let you know that we’ll be together as long as this tree stands.”
I look at the old stump and give a bitter laugh. ‘I suppose you words were fitting weren’t they?’ I think to myself. Oh old memory and old loves. How they haunt me so.
Preston
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Nidhin
food. its like wanting anything so much. uncontrollable desire. lol. regency . whatever.
Typically, ice creams anythng sweet. mangos also.
Nidhin
The elders of the G’kand tribe stood around the tooji tree. Having finished their task, they laid their stone tools aside. It had been five generations since it had been a seedling, planted by fathers of fathers of fathers of fathers. Bag’ji sounded the flute to beckon the rest of the tribe where they could dance to celebrate this day.
In honor, as the throng of dozens arrived, they started beating their drums, the others stripped off their loin cloths to celebrate in the benevolent sunlight as they moved ecstatically to the music, their reverence focused on the carved likeness of Angelina Jolie.
I carved a song. I don’t know why. Or how. Or if you can. But I did. But was it me who carved? It could have been someone else. Problably was someone else.
Odenstedt
He carved a wand for me. He spent an entire month on it, just because he liked me. He really really likes me, and I don’t like him back, and I hate it. He deserves my love far more than the douchebag that ripped my heart out of my very chest and smashed it with a hammer. He made it just like the elder wand, and I don’t like him back, and he needs my love, but I can’t give it back to him, and I hate it.
Rachel
we carved a life together.. now it just seems the walls have all grow too thin. I can’t find the brick to build us back up. You was my whole life my everything. Now I’m just the person you hate coming home to…
the pumpkin sitting on the table. The carcus of a roasted pig. The wooden trinket around her neck. His hollow heart.
Kenzie
i wonder if they ever fixed the door frame where the e and s, the beginning letters of escape, were carved there. then i wonder how silly they must’ve thought me seeing the chalk stained walls, and how frustrated they must’ve been. especially if my paranoid mother was actually right about paint not covering it. i dropped a dead egg on the floor once. i spent most of my time in that room, more than one should. and saw and experienced much darkness. i also briefly possessed a period of bliss. a lot of years were lived in that house and they’ve carved extensively my character and perspective.
at the renaissance fair i saw a log stool carved into a wizard.
one of dreams would be to carve…or blow glass, the most interesting would probably to mold pottery. fascinating arts. to shape an object in the way that you see it and wish it to be.
christmas is over
we carved the turkey, tore the wrapping paper, smelled the cookies
memories drifting, smiles lifting and people gifting
though we think the world stands till for one day
it doesn’t, life still goes on and churches are bombed
even on the holiest days, hundreds of lives are taken away
and yet, there is nothing left to say
but the empty carols that always get in the way
on halloween i found the perfect pumpkin, when i got home with it , i carved it into a giant castle! and then it became real and i lived in it forever!!! go me!
Her skin tingled with an intense sensation as the blood dripped onto the bathroom floor. Her eyes were filled with fear while she sat, holding her arm. In it was one single word, carved into her body as a horrific reminder — “slut”.
Carve your name into my heart
and while you’re at it into my skin as well
Into my flesh where all can see the pain that being with you causes me
I wish I could be with you in truth
Because having to share you feels like being Prometheus
we don’t need much to keep us entertained so we walk and we hike and we discover the world all by ourselves and then you stopped right there in the middle of a forest in footprints no one had ever made and you reached out for the nearest tree and you carved your name and then mine we had been there this was our land and you were mine
He dug the blade deep, deeper. Liquids emerged from the bird’s fleshy surface. The knife stung his palms, he grasped it with such ferocity. He ripped through its skin, leaving long gashes that exposed it’s pale bones. He stabbed it, short staccato motions, again, again. He dropped the knife. It clattered to the floor, splattering drops of pale yellow seasoning across the linoleum floor. He turned from the table and left, leaving the carcass behind, a mangled heap of toasted brown flesh and snapped bones.
as I carved the meat, she stood behind me
commenting on how juicy it looked and how good it smelled
I know she is simply trying to get me to give her a small bite
and I do every time
Bryan Green
My dad carved out my soul piece by piece as Supernatural sat in my dvd player, waiting for it to begin but unable to press Play as my father continued his show-offy nature with his magical iPhone applications…
I looked at the shelf. Carved into it’s dark mahogany wood were intricate flowers and vines, overlapping and entwining.
“Do you like it?” Callum asked me, beaming,
“It’s beautiful.” I assured him, “I love it more than any other gift.”
Delilah
sculptures. The Pieta. They are remarkable works of man mmortalized in wood, wax or even scarp materials. They are endless. precise.
marian ortiz
his cute face looked cheerfully at me-he did not smile, but was jolly nonetheless. In his hands he held a bucket of tiny candy canes and a staff. He was made by loving hands-my grandfather’s. He was the most beautiful Father Christmas I had ever seen.
k
i carved her initials into my arm
tiny pools of blood dripped to the floor
but none of it mattered
she’s not my girlfriend anymore
hello
i don’t know what this is
and i don’t know what to say
i feel as if i’m running out of time
but my brain won’t work fast enough
to get the words out
that i need to say
and i suppose i should just
spit them out
so i suppose you should know
i love you
i completely, entirely love you
Rachael
There was a spot on the door frame, at the top right, which was carved with their initials. She had been pregnant, and he had left just enough space to the right for a third. It was a warm day for that early in the spring, and they were tangled in their happiness and a blanket on the floor that had just been put down days ago. The beams were new, the year was new, they were new, and everything was full of easy promises.
I carved my name into his back and spit. How dare he walk away with everything that mattered to me? My nails shattered as I clenched my fists. I kicked him down and walked away, filled with remorse. How could I hurt him? Even if he broke every part of me, I would still need him. And now he’d never see it.
remember that one time on the tree? yeah, you can’t remember it. that’s okay, I do. you never came, that’s why you don’t remember it. you never showed up, even though i told you to come. when you didn’t show up, i carved our initials into that tree. you still don’t know, but i’ve carved you into my heart.
I carved the initial slowly into my skin. The blossoming pain made me suck in my breath and clench my eyes shut but I continued. It felt bizarre and yet I never wanted it to stop. I knew what I was doing and I loved it.
The chips and flakes flew off at random angles as he carved away at the stone. Sometimes he thought the parts leaving were the idea he had and what was left was the husk.
When I was younger,
my family and I would go near a river
where a big oak tree grew.
It may be much smaller than I remember,
as I was small myself, and the world seemed so big.
I would climb the tree and read all the initials:
carved into hearts,
carved in the bark.
Though I am older,
The world is still so big,
and I have still never carved my initials with anyone.
She brought her knife around with a flourish, doing the finishing touches on her wood-carving. It would be a surprise for her boyfriend.
turkey
time carved out of a schedule
wood
bodies
ideas
A half-crescent hanging among fireballs too far away to care. The trees stripping themselves as the weather grows colder, old initials carved into their trunks. And you, finding your way home before light.
ugyuiopugt
The phone rang, just as the meal was being served. the meat was being carved by the head of the family, well, if you could even call him that. He really was a no good for nothing dad for 364 days of the year
Reminds me of Halloween
I looked at the tree after he backed away. And there, in all its permanence, was our names carved into the tree. “It’s to let you know that we’ll be together as long as this tree stands.”
I look at the old stump and give a bitter laugh. ‘I suppose you words were fitting weren’t they?’ I think to myself. Oh old memory and old loves. How they haunt me so.
One stop place for all kinds Events in Bengaluru.
Upcoming Events in Bangalore. Most popular Bangalore concerts, festivals, shows, and events right here. We recommend members to provide us as much as information possible while posting any the events in Bengaluru city.
food. its like wanting anything so much. uncontrollable desire. lol. regency . whatever.
Typically, ice creams anythng sweet. mangos also.
The elders of the G’kand tribe stood around the tooji tree. Having finished their task, they laid their stone tools aside. It had been five generations since it had been a seedling, planted by fathers of fathers of fathers of fathers. Bag’ji sounded the flute to beckon the rest of the tribe where they could dance to celebrate this day.
In honor, as the throng of dozens arrived, they started beating their drums, the others stripped off their loin cloths to celebrate in the benevolent sunlight as they moved ecstatically to the music, their reverence focused on the carved likeness of Angelina Jolie.
Craving the carved candy, he cranks caravans of caramel.
I carved a song. I don’t know why. Or how. Or if you can. But I did. But was it me who carved? It could have been someone else. Problably was someone else.
He carved a wand for me. He spent an entire month on it, just because he liked me. He really really likes me, and I don’t like him back, and I hate it. He deserves my love far more than the douchebag that ripped my heart out of my very chest and smashed it with a hammer. He made it just like the elder wand, and I don’t like him back, and he needs my love, but I can’t give it back to him, and I hate it.
we carved a life together.. now it just seems the walls have all grow too thin. I can’t find the brick to build us back up. You was my whole life my everything. Now I’m just the person you hate coming home to…
wood
carpenter
work
hard
knife
poor
heart
pain
tree
branch
effort
job
creative
art
woa
Her necklace was simple, carved from rich oak wood. In the shape of a heart. Like her heart. Carved and shredded from years of damage.
the pumpkin sitting on the table. The carcus of a roasted pig. The wooden trinket around her neck. His hollow heart.
i wonder if they ever fixed the door frame where the e and s, the beginning letters of escape, were carved there. then i wonder how silly they must’ve thought me seeing the chalk stained walls, and how frustrated they must’ve been. especially if my paranoid mother was actually right about paint not covering it. i dropped a dead egg on the floor once. i spent most of my time in that room, more than one should. and saw and experienced much darkness. i also briefly possessed a period of bliss. a lot of years were lived in that house and they’ve carved extensively my character and perspective.
at the renaissance fair i saw a log stool carved into a wizard.
one of dreams would be to carve…or blow glass, the most interesting would probably to mold pottery. fascinating arts. to shape an object in the way that you see it and wish it to be.
christmas is over
we carved the turkey, tore the wrapping paper, smelled the cookies
memories drifting, smiles lifting and people gifting
though we think the world stands till for one day
it doesn’t, life still goes on and churches are bombed
even on the holiest days, hundreds of lives are taken away
and yet, there is nothing left to say
but the empty carols that always get in the way
on halloween i found the perfect pumpkin, when i got home with it , i carved it into a giant castle! and then it became real and i lived in it forever!!! go me!
Her skin tingled with an intense sensation as the blood dripped onto the bathroom floor. Her eyes were filled with fear while she sat, holding her arm. In it was one single word, carved into her body as a horrific reminder — “slut”.
Carve your name into my heart
and while you’re at it into my skin as well
Into my flesh where all can see the pain that being with you causes me
I wish I could be with you in truth
Because having to share you feels like being Prometheus
we don’t need much to keep us entertained so we walk and we hike and we discover the world all by ourselves and then you stopped right there in the middle of a forest in footprints no one had ever made and you reached out for the nearest tree and you carved your name and then mine we had been there this was our land and you were mine
He dug the blade deep, deeper. Liquids emerged from the bird’s fleshy surface. The knife stung his palms, he grasped it with such ferocity. He ripped through its skin, leaving long gashes that exposed it’s pale bones. He stabbed it, short staccato motions, again, again. He dropped the knife. It clattered to the floor, splattering drops of pale yellow seasoning across the linoleum floor. He turned from the table and left, leaving the carcass behind, a mangled heap of toasted brown flesh and snapped bones.
as I carved the meat, she stood behind me
commenting on how juicy it looked and how good it smelled
I know she is simply trying to get me to give her a small bite
and I do every time
My dad carved out my soul piece by piece as Supernatural sat in my dvd player, waiting for it to begin but unable to press Play as my father continued his show-offy nature with his magical iPhone applications…
i carved your name into my heart.
you left me the next day.
I looked at the shelf. Carved into it’s dark mahogany wood were intricate flowers and vines, overlapping and entwining.
“Do you like it?” Callum asked me, beaming,
“It’s beautiful.” I assured him, “I love it more than any other gift.”
sculptures. The Pieta. They are remarkable works of man mmortalized in wood, wax or even scarp materials. They are endless. precise.
his cute face looked cheerfully at me-he did not smile, but was jolly nonetheless. In his hands he held a bucket of tiny candy canes and a staff. He was made by loving hands-my grandfather’s. He was the most beautiful Father Christmas I had ever seen.
i carved her initials into my arm
tiny pools of blood dripped to the floor
but none of it mattered
she’s not my girlfriend anymore
Durk spent most of the evening looking for his tools. His carved ice sculpture was most likely burned in the fire.
You carved your words into my arm. With your hate you hurt. You’re a vampire of my soul. Can’t stop… can’t move on.
hello
i don’t know what this is
and i don’t know what to say
i feel as if i’m running out of time
but my brain won’t work fast enough
to get the words out
that i need to say
and i suppose i should just
spit them out
so i suppose you should know
i love you
i completely, entirely love you
There was a spot on the door frame, at the top right, which was carved with their initials. She had been pregnant, and he had left just enough space to the right for a third. It was a warm day for that early in the spring, and they were tangled in their happiness and a blanket on the floor that had just been put down days ago. The beams were new, the year was new, they were new, and everything was full of easy promises.
I carved my name into his back and spit. How dare he walk away with everything that mattered to me? My nails shattered as I clenched my fists. I kicked him down and walked away, filled with remorse. How could I hurt him? Even if he broke every part of me, I would still need him. And now he’d never see it.