There seems to be something wrong with your depth perception. Every time you serve me a cup, something hot and steaming, and at first it seems that I wanted a taste, only to find it burning the top of my legs as I run away. This didn’t make sense. It’s pouring.
sabrina
drip fall bowl runny water honey syrup falling cup
cooking recipe
cameron
the rain pours down and it washes away all of my pain. the rain is what keeps me going and washes my pain away so more can come then the rain comes again and washes it away again and it just keeps repeating that.
Melissa
I poured a glass of cream soda for me to drink, I have no idea that it had been poisoned or that it would be the last thing I ever saw. Thank you Elliot for allowing me my last pleasure before my death sentence. I will always love that second of my life where I knew it was over.
Elli
I pour water into a glass. Then I drink the water. It doesn’t taste like much, but it is satisfying. It sustains.
sarah
the water poured down upon the womans head as she sat unknowingly in his sights. She had thought that he pursuit had ended along time ago, but in his mind it has only just begun. the rain hadnt stopped for three days but returning home wasnt an opition.
Tyler Castro
The room was filled with a pleasant aroma. I poured the coffee from the pot into my mug, enjoying the sound it made as it splashed against the glass sides. The smell drifted towards me, the steam moistening my skin. The kitchen was quiet–empty except for me. It was morning. The coffee was fresh and I was ready. It was a new day.
Nikki
drinks
love
soul
your heart out
rain – i love rain. i wish i could go dancing in it right now with someone i love.
pores. clean!
rich
I have no idea what to write about this word…it makes me think of pouring a drink. not an alcoholic drink, but something like lemoade. Pouring lemonade on the hottest summer day imaginable. um…yeah.
pour.
MK
it’s pouring rain. my idiot boyfriend is outside smoking a cigarette. i would join him if i weren’t currently dying from swine flu. fuck. i love the rain, i can’t believe i’m missing this. the smell of rain is my favorite. how everything just seems so clean and lovely after the showers. it’s like i’m able to look at the world with brand new eyes, see things i never saw before when everything was sunny and perfect.
lyssa
Suddenly he know the full on answer he had been seeking for the past two years. She has to pour it out.
rick
pour me into the ocean, but youdont get it. poor me, no i wont feel pathetic anymore.
nessstea
i just poured green tea into my glass. i love to pour soup into soup bowls when i am cold on a winter day. pouring rain ruins my day. pouring rhymes with snoring. pouring flower into a cake mix makes everything fit. pouring paint on people at random streets is fun.
lola
They used to pour boiled oil over the sides of castle walls at attackers below. (Wait. How the heck do you boil oil? Anyway…) They had catapults and horsemen riding in fours through rings of fire. Big wall to break too.
Jesse Shulman
“pour me a sherry will you love?” what a poor choice of words for a man his age. he should’ve know that the sherry would be laced with cyanide, she knew it was his favourite after all. but it was only after he started choking on his own blood that he realized he had been duped by a mistress far more dangerous than alcohol.
ezbot
Pour pour your heart out, history and intelligent people lead us to victory. Trampoline my life with love. Blue telephone haunts the lost soul with feathers and blood.
Sinister
When i think of pour i think of water pouring from my mothers pitcher as she waters the plants. She would water them twice a week and me being only 8 years old would follow her around examining all the plants, watching the water seep down slowly like butter in the frying pan.
Anonymous
i poured a glass of wine onb the floor. It was horrible and caused a great stain. oh man. Household cleaners would not work. Fuck
Anonymous
I watched the rain hit the windows and tumble down the panes of glass. I saw the fear and joy of God pour out of the sky to replenish Earth, as broken and barren as humans have perversed it to be.
Emily
Pour your heart out.
Promise yourself you’ll see the world as it should be seen.
Never let someone go that wont deserve you in the end.
Always needing people isnt a sign of weakness, its a sign youre stronger than most.
Mostly being stronger, doesnt mean youre wise.
But being wise doesnt mean youre strong.
Learning from your mistakes make you wise and strong.
But mixing the two, could be horridly dangerous.
Be cautious about the two.
Montana.
This is a test of something that I want ot see how it works…
test
there are moments when you look at your feet
flooded in puddles
the skies have opened up to pour it’s feelings onto you
and you feel them
it’s new and nice and cold and perfect
you walk away now,
muddy, leaving your footprints for someone to follow
alex
pour it on Hollywood. let us know how much you support haiti. pour it on and maybe we’ll actually think you are someone other than this beautiful 2-dimentional body who appears larger than life on the movie screen. Pour it on and make us think you actually care. and then pour more champagne.
HeidiTown
pour? is pour a color? I dont think it is..but it makes me really thirsty. It makes me want to pour myself a HUGE drink. Yes indeedy. And saying indeedy makes me think of the simpsons…because the neighbor dude…flanders?…
Jamie
She leant forward to pour the coffee, her dark hair falling as a curtain at the sides of her face. She felt her hands shake as she lifted the pot, her face flaming red. “What a fuckwit I am” she thought to herself. “Why did I say that” she thought, verbally whipping herself.`
Roxanne
I imagine sometimes that there are angels in the clouds with buckets full of water, just waiting until you’ve planned to go to the beach before they let loose, just for a giggle. Ugh.
Lulu
emptying of one body to fill another, my blood is your blood. You can just toss me away like an empty juice box once you’re done. Couldn’t get my jollies off donation anymore. I had to get rid of it ALL. Every. Last. Drop.
Lace
I love to come here and pour words out into this fascinating void. Sparks fly from my finger tips as I try to convey the first image that comes to mind. What a lovely exercise this is. Thank you to the one who provided this to all of us!
Peaceable
your heart out.
to my sleeve.
on to.
fdot
pour your heart to someone who you love. if they love you enough they will absorb every detail and remember it. pour a pitcher of lemonade. pores on your skin. it’s pouring rain.
ag
pour some sugar on me. hey baby, i got a lot of lovin, share some of yours. i don’t want your cars, your fancy houses. I just want some of that sugar lovin, those sweet kisses.
April
Pour out your heart and fill my cup with love. Open the faucet and allow the flow of emotions that you filter with idiocy to make friends with the bottom of my cup. I need the truth. Take the chance to fill my cup. Your chance is now, let me stand under your waterfall.
erica newsome
pour out your soul to me. let me see what is in your heart…what is in your mind.
katie
I want to tell him. I want to tell him everything. He’s my therapist, and he sits in his big leather chair and watches me, waiting for a response. And although I want to pour everything out, admit to the voices and the cutting and the hatred, I can’t, because my mother is in the room. My mother is in the room and she will not leave, and I cannot let myself pour out every emotion, because I can’t be vulnerable in her presence.
Bipolar
I really need somebody to pour me a drink. I’m sad since my boy is gone, so I need to pour myself a drink. Maybe a nice cold beer. yea, that sounds good.
Ashley
The blood poured from my skin, onto my thighs. It didn’t hurt. It was a nightly ritual, for me to cut open my hips and watch them cry red, before I shower. I don’t know when it started. I don’t know why it started. But I watch the blood pour, and that’s all that matters.
KeenaChan
Everybody knows they are there. It’s just that we never pay them any attention. Is it truly because we’re busy or just can’t relate to someone who is poor unlike us…
someone
My walls crash down and the emotions come pouring through. Why is that only you can do this to me? You abuse my heart and mind yet still it only beats for you. You. Whom I love more than my own life.
Anonymous
Pour from your heart all your pain, pour yourself into bed after a long hard day. Slide to sleep in the dark of night, as the rain pours down, you hold me tight.
Tristin
Pour out your love….pour house…you aren’t poor. I don’t understand who understands a poor child in a with a poor neighborhood who spends all thier time pouring coffee in a cheap cafe. Pour more resources into that city…help the poor.
There seems to be something wrong with your depth perception. Every time you serve me a cup, something hot and steaming, and at first it seems that I wanted a taste, only to find it burning the top of my legs as I run away. This didn’t make sense. It’s pouring.
drip fall bowl runny water honey syrup falling cup
cooking recipe
the rain pours down and it washes away all of my pain. the rain is what keeps me going and washes my pain away so more can come then the rain comes again and washes it away again and it just keeps repeating that.
I poured a glass of cream soda for me to drink, I have no idea that it had been poisoned or that it would be the last thing I ever saw. Thank you Elliot for allowing me my last pleasure before my death sentence. I will always love that second of my life where I knew it was over.
I pour water into a glass. Then I drink the water. It doesn’t taste like much, but it is satisfying. It sustains.
the water poured down upon the womans head as she sat unknowingly in his sights. She had thought that he pursuit had ended along time ago, but in his mind it has only just begun. the rain hadnt stopped for three days but returning home wasnt an opition.
The room was filled with a pleasant aroma. I poured the coffee from the pot into my mug, enjoying the sound it made as it splashed against the glass sides. The smell drifted towards me, the steam moistening my skin. The kitchen was quiet–empty except for me. It was morning. The coffee was fresh and I was ready. It was a new day.
drinks
love
soul
your heart out
rain – i love rain. i wish i could go dancing in it right now with someone i love.
pores. clean!
I have no idea what to write about this word…it makes me think of pouring a drink. not an alcoholic drink, but something like lemoade. Pouring lemonade on the hottest summer day imaginable. um…yeah.
pour.
it’s pouring rain. my idiot boyfriend is outside smoking a cigarette. i would join him if i weren’t currently dying from swine flu. fuck. i love the rain, i can’t believe i’m missing this. the smell of rain is my favorite. how everything just seems so clean and lovely after the showers. it’s like i’m able to look at the world with brand new eyes, see things i never saw before when everything was sunny and perfect.
Suddenly he know the full on answer he had been seeking for the past two years. She has to pour it out.
pour me into the ocean, but youdont get it. poor me, no i wont feel pathetic anymore.
i just poured green tea into my glass. i love to pour soup into soup bowls when i am cold on a winter day. pouring rain ruins my day. pouring rhymes with snoring. pouring flower into a cake mix makes everything fit. pouring paint on people at random streets is fun.
They used to pour boiled oil over the sides of castle walls at attackers below. (Wait. How the heck do you boil oil? Anyway…) They had catapults and horsemen riding in fours through rings of fire. Big wall to break too.
“pour me a sherry will you love?” what a poor choice of words for a man his age. he should’ve know that the sherry would be laced with cyanide, she knew it was his favourite after all. but it was only after he started choking on his own blood that he realized he had been duped by a mistress far more dangerous than alcohol.
Pour pour your heart out, history and intelligent people lead us to victory. Trampoline my life with love. Blue telephone haunts the lost soul with feathers and blood.
When i think of pour i think of water pouring from my mothers pitcher as she waters the plants. She would water them twice a week and me being only 8 years old would follow her around examining all the plants, watching the water seep down slowly like butter in the frying pan.
i poured a glass of wine onb the floor. It was horrible and caused a great stain. oh man. Household cleaners would not work. Fuck
I watched the rain hit the windows and tumble down the panes of glass. I saw the fear and joy of God pour out of the sky to replenish Earth, as broken and barren as humans have perversed it to be.
Pour your heart out.
Promise yourself you’ll see the world as it should be seen.
Never let someone go that wont deserve you in the end.
Always needing people isnt a sign of weakness, its a sign youre stronger than most.
Mostly being stronger, doesnt mean youre wise.
But being wise doesnt mean youre strong.
Learning from your mistakes make you wise and strong.
But mixing the two, could be horridly dangerous.
Be cautious about the two.
This is a test of something that I want ot see how it works…
there are moments when you look at your feet
flooded in puddles
the skies have opened up to pour it’s feelings onto you
and you feel them
it’s new and nice and cold and perfect
you walk away now,
muddy, leaving your footprints for someone to follow
pour it on Hollywood. let us know how much you support haiti. pour it on and maybe we’ll actually think you are someone other than this beautiful 2-dimentional body who appears larger than life on the movie screen. Pour it on and make us think you actually care. and then pour more champagne.
pour? is pour a color? I dont think it is..but it makes me really thirsty. It makes me want to pour myself a HUGE drink. Yes indeedy. And saying indeedy makes me think of the simpsons…because the neighbor dude…flanders?…
She leant forward to pour the coffee, her dark hair falling as a curtain at the sides of her face. She felt her hands shake as she lifted the pot, her face flaming red. “What a fuckwit I am” she thought to herself. “Why did I say that” she thought, verbally whipping herself.`
I imagine sometimes that there are angels in the clouds with buckets full of water, just waiting until you’ve planned to go to the beach before they let loose, just for a giggle. Ugh.
emptying of one body to fill another, my blood is your blood. You can just toss me away like an empty juice box once you’re done. Couldn’t get my jollies off donation anymore. I had to get rid of it ALL. Every. Last. Drop.
I love to come here and pour words out into this fascinating void. Sparks fly from my finger tips as I try to convey the first image that comes to mind. What a lovely exercise this is. Thank you to the one who provided this to all of us!
your heart out.
to my sleeve.
on to.
pour your heart to someone who you love. if they love you enough they will absorb every detail and remember it. pour a pitcher of lemonade. pores on your skin. it’s pouring rain.
pour some sugar on me. hey baby, i got a lot of lovin, share some of yours. i don’t want your cars, your fancy houses. I just want some of that sugar lovin, those sweet kisses.
Pour out your heart and fill my cup with love. Open the faucet and allow the flow of emotions that you filter with idiocy to make friends with the bottom of my cup. I need the truth. Take the chance to fill my cup. Your chance is now, let me stand under your waterfall.
pour out your soul to me. let me see what is in your heart…what is in your mind.
I want to tell him. I want to tell him everything. He’s my therapist, and he sits in his big leather chair and watches me, waiting for a response. And although I want to pour everything out, admit to the voices and the cutting and the hatred, I can’t, because my mother is in the room. My mother is in the room and she will not leave, and I cannot let myself pour out every emotion, because I can’t be vulnerable in her presence.
I really need somebody to pour me a drink. I’m sad since my boy is gone, so I need to pour myself a drink. Maybe a nice cold beer. yea, that sounds good.
The blood poured from my skin, onto my thighs. It didn’t hurt. It was a nightly ritual, for me to cut open my hips and watch them cry red, before I shower. I don’t know when it started. I don’t know why it started. But I watch the blood pour, and that’s all that matters.
Everybody knows they are there. It’s just that we never pay them any attention. Is it truly because we’re busy or just can’t relate to someone who is poor unlike us…
My walls crash down and the emotions come pouring through. Why is that only you can do this to me? You abuse my heart and mind yet still it only beats for you. You. Whom I love more than my own life.
Pour from your heart all your pain, pour yourself into bed after a long hard day. Slide to sleep in the dark of night, as the rain pours down, you hold me tight.
Pour out your love….pour house…you aren’t poor. I don’t understand who understands a poor child in a with a poor neighborhood who spends all thier time pouring coffee in a cheap cafe. Pour more resources into that city…help the poor.