I am not willing to accept the terms of the agreement, but I was forced to sign it, upon my return. These terms are unreasonable and death shall follow. Death always follows, just as people always leave, and never return.
It was a dark night. I found myself just sitting there, alone, with only the light from a single candle that flickered as the draft from the old single-planed window blew in, gently. I was waiting for him to return. I would be waiting a long time.
It has been eight years since I last set foot in this place where I grew up, where I spent my childhood. Just eight years ago my life suddenly changed and I moved back to where I was born. It just felt so different, that despite it being where I was born, it wasn’t where I grew up.
At long last I’ve returned to, I suppose… where I truly did belong.
Jasmine
He sat there. Shirtless. Surrounded by bundles of pure white blankets and duvet covers. The window open, a soft cool breeze ruffling his long, bedhead hair. Upon his thigh, he rested his acoustic, his fingers on one hand feeling along the wiry strings and the other pushing on his thick rimmed glasses up to the bridge of his crooked nose. His fingers tapped and strummed as he began playing a slow, melodic rhythm. His eyes met mine with intensity. Staring.
I wake up and feel emotional every time I have this dream. It keeps returning, haunting me.
The sad fact is, I know who the boy is. And he is unattainable perfectness.
I will never admit it. Apart from here.
Returning DVDs is something that I hate doing. Honestly, I’ll let them sit on my desk until the last possible moment that I can get away with not paying extra for them. I don’t know if it’s arrogance, defiance, or just laziness that has driven me to this insanity. Will I ever be able to return the DVDs on time? Who knows. All I know is that I will forever hate it, and that’s my story.
Luke
He said he would return, But I didn’t believe him. All he had in his bag was one set of clothes and a loaf of bread.
Rebbecca
I shall return to the home of my ancestors. That was an spirit filled declaration that I must fulfill before my fiftieth birthday, If I am to be the man I ought to be. I must do it, I have to try to accomplice my desire.
victor walkes
Don’t look back, just go
I guess i wanted to go farther but I had to do things again, things that i did not succeed in a first place
No remorse, for i’ll do things over and over again.
Neal
Ally looked around her and took in the familiar setting. She was finally home. It had taken two long days on multiple planes with multiple layovers but she was home for good. She didn’t have to walk around Crenshaw anymore, bombarded with constant reminders of Colin. Losing him had been the worst thing to happen to her in her relatively short life.
Krissy
As she stood on the brink of the mountain ridge she knew that she might never return from the lands beyond. She might never run through the meadows of her home whith her little sister or bake bread with her mother or help her father fix the thatched roof of their cottage. She sighed. She knew she was doing the right thing. By leaving now, she could save many lives. She took a deep breath and pulled her ricksack onto her back. Then she stepped over the ridge nad began the journey forth into the unknown.
Antonia
Return means giving back your things. Or return as in return from home. Return the paper.LOL. RETURN THE ITEM. Return me the time :P
Syahirah
I’ve gone to the point of no return.
There are signs that point north.
Invisible the ones south.
Doomed to be lost traveling
Forward to the unknown darkness.
The thorns and thistles to walk through
Pierce my being.
I wanna return home. wtf. yo. RETURN yo! Okay I’m bored. Cant write much in 60 seconds. wtf.
Damn 60 seconds is long…………………………………………………………..
efvsc
As I return from the darkest part of my journey so far, a smile lights up my face because your hand is in mine. I can’t think of a more perfect person to drag me out of the dark place I was in, and your smile was the light that led the way. I will always love you for causing the dark to flee, for, when once I would hide in it and accept it as my friend, I now realize that it was the enemy all along.
I return from the darkest part of my soul with a smile on my face because I know that you’ve shared the moment with me. You are the reason I have returned in on piece. Know that, forever and always, you are the light to help me return from that dark place.
Patience
I had never dreamed that I would return. I stood on top of the grassy verge, looking down upon the old farm. It appeared so tired and quiet now, so different to the memories of my youth. I pictured him sitting at the oak dining table, rugged face and reading the newspaper like a ticking bomb. But he’s gone now. There would be no fireworks today.
return from the dark.. from the old things.. to newer greener pastures. theres a better world in the present.. so return to the present and look fwd to the future. talking about return, i dont quite understand teh funda of return gifts. why return the gifts, you’ve received something as a good gesture; by returning you make it look like a favour.
farri
There is no return address on this letter. I didn’t think that the post office would accept a letter without a return address. I wonder if I should open it. It could be one of those anthrax letters, where I open it, inhale the powder and die!
I don’t know
why I’m like this.
I return to my old self,
afraid, internally endangered,
the only one of its kind,
wondering how
people got so easily talking,
easily walking,
easily doing things
that aren’t worth doing.
I wonder what passion is,
why it’s so important.
Logic and order
make so much more sense,
but I guess I can understand love
to some extent.
It’s like a song,
slurring up to a high guitar note,
singing your lungs out
like a rock star.
That doesn’t entail
logic and order.
Return – to bring back, to come home. I have so many books and I lent some of them, but I think the others were not returned to me. I have not kept track of it. I don’t know what’s missing now.
Why, oh why do I always return to you? I can’t help it, I really can’t. I can try to trick myself into thinking that I don’t want you, that I won’t come back, that I’ve met someone better…but each and every time, I find it’s a lie. Just one, big, fat, stupid ass, lovesick lie.
He hits the return key. It squelches slightly. Brow wrinkled, he gives it a long look. It ceases to return his look, or do anything interesting at all, really.
pecatrix
She returned to work with dismay, for nothing bothered her quite so much as lacking the right words to say. Poetry was not her forte, but rather a whim inspired by the passing of days. Sadly though, once she began to rhyme stopping was an endeavor that took quite some time.
I want to return to a time when I didn’t do the things to myself that I taught myself to do. Cutting is not a substitute for dealing. For talking about it. For feeling. What don’t I like about myself? I don’t know, okay? That’s a broad spectrum. Give me some time.
Will you really please help me return…my love
for myself?
returning from the sands of yellow land and yellow sun i stood by the dead tree’s lone grave in the vastness of nothingness and i could never return from that feeling … to return is not what i even want
Gaurav Joshi
Hit return.
Look, I just hit it twice
There it goes again.
It is useful for making page breaks, which can make your writing seem more
he’s worried that she’ll leave him. he’s just
insecure, i said. but you know, sometimes i worry about
that too. i get scared you’ll
just
leave.
you looked me in the eyes and said that you never would.
your words have been echoing through my ears and i hope
you know that i keep coming back to that moment and if you were to
break your promise i would never let anyone promise me the
moon or the stars that they conjure up from the black
holes of my eyes.
my stars won’t
shine if you leave. please please don’t
leave. i love you so.
No matter what I say or the things I do, I’ll always have you back in my arms, my cheek nestled perfectly in the crook of your neck. Maybe one day I’ll take it too far but I won’t think about that.
Not what I wanted. Escape was on my mind. The vision of it hovered in front of me just out of reach but near enough to feel possible. I feared so many alternatives but this one was the worst. To return. Where did it all go wrong?
Here I am. I’ve returned to that depressed state of panic. I feel like I’m doing horribly in my classes. I have B’s and B+’s. People tell me it’s a good grade, but I feel like I’m failing myself and disappointing others. I hate this feeling.
of everything that you had
comes rushing back
from the depths of what you gave away
brings the brighter chance of better days
turn the page
and stake your place
the world is yours
there’s nothing more to chase.
My passion to express all the things in my mind that have the potential to touch somebody’s heart and change their view on things. Something relevant meaningful worth while and note worthy.
Christian Zoll
should i return? should i go back to what it was once like? laughing and smiling, fighting and crying? does that even matter? didn’t the good outweigh the bad? playing guitar late into the night, talking about nothing. insecurity and security. so here’s the question. should i leave or return?
hh
“I never want to go back to earth”, she whispers to me, “We can’t. Not after this.” I put a strange red flower behind her ear and together we look out over the alien sunrise. “No. No, you’re quite right. I don’t think we’ll ever return.”
Coming back to what feels good and true. Looking back, taking in the wisdom and insights that make the soul stronger. From here to there and everywhere… back to the self.
I am not willing to accept the terms of the agreement, but I was forced to sign it, upon my return. These terms are unreasonable and death shall follow. Death always follows, just as people always leave, and never return.
It was a dark night. I found myself just sitting there, alone, with only the light from a single candle that flickered as the draft from the old single-planed window blew in, gently. I was waiting for him to return. I would be waiting a long time.
She waits and waits for him to come back to her.
She makes cookies and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, jars of Kool Aid.
She waits,
day after day after day.
Because she truly feels, that Luke Castellan will come home.
It has been eight years since I last set foot in this place where I grew up, where I spent my childhood. Just eight years ago my life suddenly changed and I moved back to where I was born. It just felt so different, that despite it being where I was born, it wasn’t where I grew up.
At long last I’ve returned to, I suppose… where I truly did belong.
He sat there. Shirtless. Surrounded by bundles of pure white blankets and duvet covers. The window open, a soft cool breeze ruffling his long, bedhead hair. Upon his thigh, he rested his acoustic, his fingers on one hand feeling along the wiry strings and the other pushing on his thick rimmed glasses up to the bridge of his crooked nose. His fingers tapped and strummed as he began playing a slow, melodic rhythm. His eyes met mine with intensity. Staring.
I wake up and feel emotional every time I have this dream. It keeps returning, haunting me.
The sad fact is, I know who the boy is. And he is unattainable perfectness.
I will never admit it. Apart from here.
Returning DVDs is something that I hate doing. Honestly, I’ll let them sit on my desk until the last possible moment that I can get away with not paying extra for them. I don’t know if it’s arrogance, defiance, or just laziness that has driven me to this insanity. Will I ever be able to return the DVDs on time? Who knows. All I know is that I will forever hate it, and that’s my story.
He said he would return, But I didn’t believe him. All he had in his bag was one set of clothes and a loaf of bread.
I shall return to the home of my ancestors. That was an spirit filled declaration that I must fulfill before my fiftieth birthday, If I am to be the man I ought to be. I must do it, I have to try to accomplice my desire.
Don’t look back, just go
I guess i wanted to go farther but I had to do things again, things that i did not succeed in a first place
No remorse, for i’ll do things over and over again.
Ally looked around her and took in the familiar setting. She was finally home. It had taken two long days on multiple planes with multiple layovers but she was home for good. She didn’t have to walk around Crenshaw anymore, bombarded with constant reminders of Colin. Losing him had been the worst thing to happen to her in her relatively short life.
As she stood on the brink of the mountain ridge she knew that she might never return from the lands beyond. She might never run through the meadows of her home whith her little sister or bake bread with her mother or help her father fix the thatched roof of their cottage. She sighed. She knew she was doing the right thing. By leaving now, she could save many lives. She took a deep breath and pulled her ricksack onto her back. Then she stepped over the ridge nad began the journey forth into the unknown.
Return means giving back your things. Or return as in return from home. Return the paper.LOL. RETURN THE ITEM. Return me the time :P
I’ve gone to the point of no return.
There are signs that point north.
Invisible the ones south.
Doomed to be lost traveling
Forward to the unknown darkness.
The thorns and thistles to walk through
Pierce my being.
I wanna return home. wtf. yo. RETURN yo! Okay I’m bored. Cant write much in 60 seconds. wtf.
Damn 60 seconds is long…………………………………………………………..
As I return from the darkest part of my journey so far, a smile lights up my face because your hand is in mine. I can’t think of a more perfect person to drag me out of the dark place I was in, and your smile was the light that led the way. I will always love you for causing the dark to flee, for, when once I would hide in it and accept it as my friend, I now realize that it was the enemy all along.
I return from the darkest part of my soul with a smile on my face because I know that you’ve shared the moment with me. You are the reason I have returned in on piece. Know that, forever and always, you are the light to help me return from that dark place.
I had never dreamed that I would return. I stood on top of the grassy verge, looking down upon the old farm. It appeared so tired and quiet now, so different to the memories of my youth. I pictured him sitting at the oak dining table, rugged face and reading the newspaper like a ticking bomb. But he’s gone now. There would be no fireworks today.
return from the dark.. from the old things.. to newer greener pastures. theres a better world in the present.. so return to the present and look fwd to the future. talking about return, i dont quite understand teh funda of return gifts. why return the gifts, you’ve received something as a good gesture; by returning you make it look like a favour.
There is no return address on this letter. I didn’t think that the post office would accept a letter without a return address. I wonder if I should open it. It could be one of those anthrax letters, where I open it, inhale the powder and die!
turn again.
I don’t know
why I’m like this.
I return to my old self,
afraid, internally endangered,
the only one of its kind,
wondering how
people got so easily talking,
easily walking,
easily doing things
that aren’t worth doing.
I wonder what passion is,
why it’s so important.
Logic and order
make so much more sense,
but I guess I can understand love
to some extent.
It’s like a song,
slurring up to a high guitar note,
singing your lungs out
like a rock star.
That doesn’t entail
logic and order.
He needed to return.
By following the truth,
to
extinguish the lie for why he left in the first place…
the return of the death? what does that even mean? i don´t think there´s a change.. but whatever i don´t make the rules.. just live my life!
Return – to bring back, to come home. I have so many books and I lent some of them, but I think the others were not returned to me. I have not kept track of it. I don’t know what’s missing now.
Why, oh why do I always return to you? I can’t help it, I really can’t. I can try to trick myself into thinking that I don’t want you, that I won’t come back, that I’ve met someone better…but each and every time, I find it’s a lie. Just one, big, fat, stupid ass, lovesick lie.
He hits the return key. It squelches slightly. Brow wrinkled, he gives it a long look. It ceases to return his look, or do anything interesting at all, really.
She returned to work with dismay, for nothing bothered her quite so much as lacking the right words to say. Poetry was not her forte, but rather a whim inspired by the passing of days. Sadly though, once she began to rhyme stopping was an endeavor that took quite some time.
I want to return to a time when I didn’t do the things to myself that I taught myself to do. Cutting is not a substitute for dealing. For talking about it. For feeling. What don’t I like about myself? I don’t know, okay? That’s a broad spectrum. Give me some time.
Will you really please help me return…my love
for myself?
returning from the sands of yellow land and yellow sun i stood by the dead tree’s lone grave in the vastness of nothingness and i could never return from that feeling … to return is not what i even want
Hit return.
Look, I just hit it twice
There it goes again.
It is useful for making page breaks, which can make your writing seem more
dramatic.
if i was to return,
it wouldn’t be the home i left behind.
i think i’ll keep the happy memories,
and ignore the bitter wonderings.
he’s worried that she’ll leave him. he’s just
insecure, i said. but you know, sometimes i worry about
that too. i get scared you’ll
just
leave.
you looked me in the eyes and said that you never would.
your words have been echoing through my ears and i hope
you know that i keep coming back to that moment and if you were to
break your promise i would never let anyone promise me the
moon or the stars that they conjure up from the black
holes of my eyes.
my stars won’t
shine if you leave. please please don’t
leave. i love you so.
No matter what I say or the things I do, I’ll always have you back in my arms, my cheek nestled perfectly in the crook of your neck. Maybe one day I’ll take it too far but I won’t think about that.
Not what I wanted. Escape was on my mind. The vision of it hovered in front of me just out of reach but near enough to feel possible. I feared so many alternatives but this one was the worst. To return. Where did it all go wrong?
Here I am. I’ve returned to that depressed state of panic. I feel like I’m doing horribly in my classes. I have B’s and B+’s. People tell me it’s a good grade, but I feel like I’m failing myself and disappointing others. I hate this feeling.
of everything that you had
comes rushing back
from the depths of what you gave away
brings the brighter chance of better days
turn the page
and stake your place
the world is yours
there’s nothing more to chase.
© LL
My passion to express all the things in my mind that have the potential to touch somebody’s heart and change their view on things. Something relevant meaningful worth while and note worthy.
should i return? should i go back to what it was once like? laughing and smiling, fighting and crying? does that even matter? didn’t the good outweigh the bad? playing guitar late into the night, talking about nothing. insecurity and security. so here’s the question. should i leave or return?
“I never want to go back to earth”, she whispers to me, “We can’t. Not after this.” I put a strange red flower behind her ear and together we look out over the alien sunrise. “No. No, you’re quite right. I don’t think we’ll ever return.”
Coming back to what feels good and true. Looking back, taking in the wisdom and insights that make the soul stronger. From here to there and everywhere… back to the self.