The signals stared her right in the face, but she loved him too much to believe it. The smell of perfume that lingered through the house when he came home late, the way he’s been distant, it was all starting to add up. She wouldn’t allow herself to believe it though.
Kerry
Did you miss them too? Tty he signals that they felt the same but on approaching it, they’d moved on? Or did you not help when you saw tty hey were sad…..signals aren’t clear enough.
ruby
I couldn’t tell. I thought I had seen them, but they’re so hard for me to spot sometimes. Signals. Was she sending them? Every twitch of her eye, every sigh at the end of a sentence…were they signals? Or was I just too hopeful?
Elisabeth
nothing right, nothing wrong.
she kept waiting for something, anything, that would be over before it started.
B
its a very good thing to find in the street in order to keep a good and fluent traffic
It is written in its plurial form and it is kind of a pointless term. It can be round, triangle or hoctogonal . It can have various calours as long as various meaning.
Teddy BOURGEONNIER
Smoke, curling up in, twisted, pained, shapes, as he, exhales, into the sky, and, my insides, exhale into me.
R.J.
He sent me quiet, sinful signals over the table, his bone thin hands stretching and twirling. All I could do was stare at the paper like skin that threaded over his knuckles and watch with a silent disinterest.
I am done asking for signals. Why do we need signals anyways? As long as were happy in the moment of doing something, why do we need a signal? I’ve spent what feels like my life waiting for signals so that I may understand what it going on, but I understand I don’t need a reason. Sometimes because it makes me happy is a good enough reason.
Sign and signified. Semiotics. A smile, a nod, a glint in the eye. Cold words to shatter the silence. Hope flickering. A misunderstanding. Interpreting the sign, the signal, without the signified.
I rotate my right shoulder joint.
The ligaments are sore.
The back of my hand is fatigued.
But the tips of my fingers are lithe.
Full of mischief, it seems they haven’t received the same signals.
Firing back up synapses, they have the nerve to say:
“We could go on all night.”
The boy walked down the school’s main hall. Everywhere you looked, there they were. Signals. Body language, rules on signs, even secret handshakes between friends. The boy kept walking, realizing that he was giving off all the wrong ones; realizing thibgs had to change.
Justin
cigarettes are orange traffic cones,
“keep left”.
smoke breathing, leaving
little pyres, sending out for relief.
O.
watch me as I fall apart and put myself back together
with you, the un-suspecting spectator of my demise.
pass over smiles and “I’m fine”s as I plan the final stage
and bare my heart upon a sheet of paper for all to see.
tell me all that is on your mind, your every wish and promise
for I will keep them close and take them to my grave,
and please, don’t you cry when you cross upon it.
friends are telling me rejections
friends are hiding in deception
enemy my friend inspecting me
pleasant company exception, see
don’t you wish you had died free
reading in between the thighs
lines like signals in your eyes
i can’t read them
cloudy skies as wordless sighs.
Matty M.
signals
I have nothing to say
about
signals
stand in line
rank file rank file
signals
I have
nothing
but
signals
everybody
anybody
signals
fire
signals
There is a time in life when you wish you always had the courage to go forward. If the signal was always green, and you never had to worry about the consequences, things would go so much faster. But sometimes you need to slow down or stop complete, so that you don’t get hurt. But really, I’m young–let’s just stick with the green. AND GO ON
Kathleen
I feel illiterate in your arms. Are you saying stay or go? Are you writhing in discomfort? I can tell you don’t know yourself,but the pain is geting to me now. How do I let you know. How do I not say it back to you. Its something you’ll carry all your own.
Chris Hutton
The signals are there, plain for me to see.
But what exactly do the signals mean?
You signal me over, you signal me away
What is this signal supposed to help you say?
Stop with the signals, please just be clear.
Otherwise, I can’t know what you want me to hear.
Laura
left right up down hand motions body movments eyes flitation power. Everything has a signal
Thomas
Signals are stupid things people give you because they think you’ll understand them better as opposed to a person just telling you how they feel.
that cosmos signals were all over the city, all over the sky, all over the earth but she couldn’t noticed because of the tears in her eyes
Fernanda
Somewhere along the way, the wires got crossed. Mis-fired signals raced up the tangled lattice of his nervous system, making his heart pound and his mouth turn inexplicably dry.
I can never tell when a woman is sending me signalts, and it’s the worst at restaraunts. Like, I somehow can always confuse common customer curtosey for legimate romantic interest, and it doesn’t matter who the person is. An beat
Robert
“I don’t understand. I sent all the right signals.”
“Oh, really,” scoffed Sylvia. “Like the way you winked at her?”
“Oh, c’mon, it was endearing.”
“And the way you heckled her so you could buy her a drink? Not the other way around, might I add?”
“She was being stuffy!”
“And,” Sylvia pressed on, “how much of an asshole you were for trying to touch her when she clearly said no?”
“…You’re acting like these are all bad things.”
Belinda Roddie
She looked into the horizon and saw smoke. A feeling churned in her gut, she knew that it could only mean one thing. They were coming. And there was no more time left to prepare.
Mikki
i get these feelings from you, some are good some are bad. i see your face and my heart speeds up and it also slows down because i don’t understand what i’m receiving from you. so i sit here and i wonder is this a green light telling me to go. or is this a red light telling me to stop?
Vanessa
I’m not sure
if you’re
waving at me
or the dancing pandas
behind me.
misinterpretation.
at least they’re going extinct.
it’s a comforting thought.
The smoke gets torn away by the wind
The sailors smiled
at our folly.
As the specks faded into the sun
and drowned with its rays,
our skin cooled and
the coals glowed like
sour pity.
i get these feelings from you, some are good some are bad. i see your face and my heart speeds up and it also slows down because i don’t understand what i’m receiving from you. so i sit here and i wonder is this a green light telling me to go. or is this a red light telling me to stop
Vanessa
One day, he sent me a signal; a signal in which I thought was love.. but I was wrong. Mixed signals. What does that even mean? Was he aware that these signals were being sent off in the first place? Was he intentionally messing with my mind? Sometimes I doubt my own mind. Perhaps the mixed signals came from within.
courtney
I send a signal to him in morse code. … — … I need help. I would use semaphore, if I could stand, but I can’t. I hope he heard me. I signal again for help. … — … S O S, the international distress call. Short short short (breathe) long long long (pause again for the length of a quick breath) short short short. Will help come?
L.
i have waited for signs my whole life, the right ones, the wrongs one, the obvious ones.
nothing in this world is easy to see and signals are hidden everywhere. we choose to overlook them, whether we know it or not. it’s sad to see them be overlooked and tragic to know we have overlooked the ones affecting us. Signals blind us and no matter how hard we look we will always miss one. And that one, may be the one that could change our lives. But we’ll never know.
Elena
there was green, yellow, and red
my guidance
my direction
keeping me in check
stop, go
wait
don’t hesitate
straight
sharon
A raise in her gaze, tilt of her face, the tinted blush of her cheeks, a tip tap tilt of the corner of her smile begingin to bend upwards. Her eyes signal to me, her lips speak to me all the words she is too much of a lady to say out loud.
I’m always watching for signals. Proof my intuition is on the mark, that my dreams haven’t overtaken reality. But dreams are better than reality. Perception of the actual through a magical veil of extraordinary keeps the ugly out of constant view. Those unpleasant bits that make you cry when you find yourself at the mercy of externals or trapped in circumstances out of your control, a reach beyond my arms even with an extension grabbing stick.
signals are what define us. Fuck that, that’s some English-student bull. Okay, I’ve missed most of my signals so far. I have been given the signs, but have been completely oblivious until the even is in the hindsight. I should react to some of these signals.
JJ Kaufman
signals are everywhere, a lot of them are around for saftey reasons
like stop signs and signal lights. They keep people in cars safe when there is such a high rate of accidents on the roads.
There are also signals in the form of body language. Like the different signals a wiggle of an eyebrow can send.
The signals stared her right in the face, but she loved him too much to believe it. The smell of perfume that lingered through the house when he came home late, the way he’s been distant, it was all starting to add up. She wouldn’t allow herself to believe it though.
Did you miss them too? Tty he signals that they felt the same but on approaching it, they’d moved on? Or did you not help when you saw tty hey were sad…..signals aren’t clear enough.
I couldn’t tell. I thought I had seen them, but they’re so hard for me to spot sometimes. Signals. Was she sending them? Every twitch of her eye, every sigh at the end of a sentence…were they signals? Or was I just too hopeful?
nothing right, nothing wrong.
she kept waiting for something, anything, that would be over before it started.
its a very good thing to find in the street in order to keep a good and fluent traffic
It is written in its plurial form and it is kind of a pointless term. It can be round, triangle or hoctogonal . It can have various calours as long as various meaning.
Smoke, curling up in, twisted, pained, shapes, as he, exhales, into the sky, and, my insides, exhale into me.
He sent me quiet, sinful signals over the table, his bone thin hands stretching and twirling. All I could do was stare at the paper like skin that threaded over his knuckles and watch with a silent disinterest.
always hand to mouth, eating up the broken crumbs of
your heart that you vomit and swallow and vomit and repeat–
he moves to the side, at the edge of the pool you find yourself kneeling in,
shoes and pants clean as he yells manic encouragements.
I am done asking for signals. Why do we need signals anyways? As long as were happy in the moment of doing something, why do we need a signal? I’ve spent what feels like my life waiting for signals so that I may understand what it going on, but I understand I don’t need a reason. Sometimes because it makes me happy is a good enough reason.
Sign and signified. Semiotics. A smile, a nod, a glint in the eye. Cold words to shatter the silence. Hope flickering. A misunderstanding. Interpreting the sign, the signal, without the signified.
I rotate my right shoulder joint.
The ligaments are sore.
The back of my hand is fatigued.
But the tips of my fingers are lithe.
Full of mischief, it seems they haven’t received the same signals.
Firing back up synapses, they have the nerve to say:
“We could go on all night.”
each day is a struggle. the sun will not wake with me.
lonely street lamps exhale steam through
a second floor window.
i breathe it in like second-hand smoke, let it fill me
until i become a pile of ashes
rising to the ceiling.
“don’t you have anything to fight for?” you say.
i nod yes. “myself”, i say, but the one skewered
on the end of my sword wears my face,
smiling through a mouthful of blood.
if i were still capable of it, we would both be crying.
The boy walked down the school’s main hall. Everywhere you looked, there they were. Signals. Body language, rules on signs, even secret handshakes between friends. The boy kept walking, realizing that he was giving off all the wrong ones; realizing thibgs had to change.
cigarettes are orange traffic cones,
“keep left”.
smoke breathing, leaving
little pyres, sending out for relief.
watch me as I fall apart and put myself back together
with you, the un-suspecting spectator of my demise.
pass over smiles and “I’m fine”s as I plan the final stage
and bare my heart upon a sheet of paper for all to see.
tell me all that is on your mind, your every wish and promise
for I will keep them close and take them to my grave,
and please, don’t you cry when you cross upon it.
friends are telling me rejections
friends are hiding in deception
enemy my friend inspecting me
pleasant company exception, see
don’t you wish you had died free
reading in between the thighs
lines like signals in your eyes
i can’t read them
cloudy skies as wordless sighs.
signals
I have nothing to say
about
signals
stand in line
rank file rank file
signals
I have
nothing
but
signals
everybody
anybody
signals
fire
signals
There is a time in life when you wish you always had the courage to go forward. If the signal was always green, and you never had to worry about the consequences, things would go so much faster. But sometimes you need to slow down or stop complete, so that you don’t get hurt. But really, I’m young–let’s just stick with the green. AND GO ON
I feel illiterate in your arms. Are you saying stay or go? Are you writhing in discomfort? I can tell you don’t know yourself,but the pain is geting to me now. How do I let you know. How do I not say it back to you. Its something you’ll carry all your own.
The signals are there, plain for me to see.
But what exactly do the signals mean?
You signal me over, you signal me away
What is this signal supposed to help you say?
Stop with the signals, please just be clear.
Otherwise, I can’t know what you want me to hear.
left right up down hand motions body movments eyes flitation power. Everything has a signal
Signals are stupid things people give you because they think you’ll understand them better as opposed to a person just telling you how they feel.
No sign could prepare me for what came next, as my world clashed and burned into nothing but a pile of smelly ashes
that cosmos signals were all over the city, all over the sky, all over the earth but she couldn’t noticed because of the tears in her eyes
Somewhere along the way, the wires got crossed. Mis-fired signals raced up the tangled lattice of his nervous system, making his heart pound and his mouth turn inexplicably dry.
I can never tell when a woman is sending me signalts, and it’s the worst at restaraunts. Like, I somehow can always confuse common customer curtosey for legimate romantic interest, and it doesn’t matter who the person is. An beat
“I don’t understand. I sent all the right signals.”
“Oh, really,” scoffed Sylvia. “Like the way you winked at her?”
“Oh, c’mon, it was endearing.”
“And the way you heckled her so you could buy her a drink? Not the other way around, might I add?”
“She was being stuffy!”
“And,” Sylvia pressed on, “how much of an asshole you were for trying to touch her when she clearly said no?”
“…You’re acting like these are all bad things.”
She looked into the horizon and saw smoke. A feeling churned in her gut, she knew that it could only mean one thing. They were coming. And there was no more time left to prepare.
i get these feelings from you, some are good some are bad. i see your face and my heart speeds up and it also slows down because i don’t understand what i’m receiving from you. so i sit here and i wonder is this a green light telling me to go. or is this a red light telling me to stop?
I’m not sure
if you’re
waving at me
or the dancing pandas
behind me.
misinterpretation.
at least they’re going extinct.
it’s a comforting thought.
The smoke gets torn away by the wind
The sailors smiled
at our folly.
As the specks faded into the sun
and drowned with its rays,
our skin cooled and
the coals glowed like
sour pity.
i get these feelings from you, some are good some are bad. i see your face and my heart speeds up and it also slows down because i don’t understand what i’m receiving from you. so i sit here and i wonder is this a green light telling me to go. or is this a red light telling me to stop
One day, he sent me a signal; a signal in which I thought was love.. but I was wrong. Mixed signals. What does that even mean? Was he aware that these signals were being sent off in the first place? Was he intentionally messing with my mind? Sometimes I doubt my own mind. Perhaps the mixed signals came from within.
I send a signal to him in morse code. … — … I need help. I would use semaphore, if I could stand, but I can’t. I hope he heard me. I signal again for help. … — … S O S, the international distress call. Short short short (breathe) long long long (pause again for the length of a quick breath) short short short. Will help come?
i have waited for signs my whole life, the right ones, the wrongs one, the obvious ones.
nothing in this world is easy to see and signals are hidden everywhere. we choose to overlook them, whether we know it or not. it’s sad to see them be overlooked and tragic to know we have overlooked the ones affecting us. Signals blind us and no matter how hard we look we will always miss one. And that one, may be the one that could change our lives. But we’ll never know.
there was green, yellow, and red
my guidance
my direction
keeping me in check
stop, go
wait
don’t hesitate
straight
A raise in her gaze, tilt of her face, the tinted blush of her cheeks, a tip tap tilt of the corner of her smile begingin to bend upwards. Her eyes signal to me, her lips speak to me all the words she is too much of a lady to say out loud.
I’m always watching for signals. Proof my intuition is on the mark, that my dreams haven’t overtaken reality. But dreams are better than reality. Perception of the actual through a magical veil of extraordinary keeps the ugly out of constant view. Those unpleasant bits that make you cry when you find yourself at the mercy of externals or trapped in circumstances out of your control, a reach beyond my arms even with an extension grabbing stick.
signals are what define us. Fuck that, that’s some English-student bull. Okay, I’ve missed most of my signals so far. I have been given the signs, but have been completely oblivious until the even is in the hindsight. I should react to some of these signals.
signals are everywhere, a lot of them are around for saftey reasons
like stop signs and signal lights. They keep people in cars safe when there is such a high rate of accidents on the roads.
There are also signals in the form of body language. Like the different signals a wiggle of an eyebrow can send.