I think sad and gloomy. A wet heart, drenched and soggy, heavy with the added weight. I think rainy days and the color of gray flashes to my mind. Wet can only be associated with coldness.
Olivia
The rain dripped down his forehead, wetting his eyebrows and tickling his nose. He did not wipe it away, for that would mean lowering the flag he held, and he would not do that until the bugler had finished his salute and his father’s coffin had been lowered into his grave.
tony
I am so wet! I can’t believe this downpour. It’s was never worse, not since I spent a week in london and then another 10 days again with both my brother and my dad.
Cam
It poured that night, the water dripped off Martin’s boots staining the ground where he stepped. He brushed his hands through his hair, drying it the best he could. He shuddered, not so much from the cold air as it shot across his cold body, more or less due to the memory that wouldn’t cease itself in his brain, like a rerun of some twisted film.
bryan
Oh Gross! I put my hand down on the chair arm and it’s covered!
with what!
the dog’s damn slobber! It’s wet and gross!
Ewww!
I’m gonna throw up now.
Just wash your hands, I’ll get the chair cleaned up!
His tongue is wet and gross. I don’t like it. I wish he would keep it away from me, but he won’t stop licking me. His breathing is so heavy. Why is he so needy? I always have to feed him, bathe him, go on walks with him. I have no space at all. It’s like having a mentally handicapped child, except the association isn’t obligatory at all.
Megan
The rain pours over my body. My skin is wet and I am cold. I’m shivering slightly and I can see my breath in the night air. But it is a good feeling. I feel awake and refreshed. I close my eyes, breathing in deeply, filling my lungs. I feel….alive.
New York’s Hottest Club is WET. Located in the middle of the Hudson River, this 24-hour no-pants party is the creation of Ex-Hustler, Abs McGee. And this club has Everything: Swimsuits, foam, glow-in-the dark body paint, glitter, and Human Water Wings.
Remus Drake
The road was wet. As wet as her cheeks from the tears running down her face. She was leaving everything she knew behind. But she knew that if she didn’t leave, she would be swallowed up whole. She would lose herself completely in what had become her life. So she left.
Rachel H
How exciting.
It was that time of year. The lost middle between the heat and beauty of summer to the harsh chill of winter. And always, we were stuck waiting for the weather man’s predictions. When would the snow come? Was there any heat to be had before the cold snap?
Two girls, both barely old enough to drive, skidded down the rural pavement of the back roads. The sky as grey, listless as the passenger’s gaze. Snow fell in huge flaks, twirling in the air. The world was losing its colour; trees hovered between yellowed leaves and powdered skeletons reaching up to th sky.
“…It’s like a never-ending mirror.” She whispered, watching the wet ribbon of cement pass by.
completely a dirty thought. I’ve never even finished, well not with someone at least. he doesn’t know that. but the sex is good. I ask for it consistently almost everyday so i guess he is doing something right. oh god i just said all that…
but that’s what he does to me. No apologies.
Rain drops rested on the glass, obscuring the world as it quickly passed by outside my window. If only I had time to stop and breathe it all in for a while.
damn it i love you
rain drops falling and windows are cloudy
and umbrellas are vibrant in umber
and nothingness
and i see clouds
and I see your face
and we have nothing in common
but i kiss you anyways
because that’s what we do when it’s raining
and you’re next to me
it what i want to feel when I’m dirty it is what makes me feel clean and good it is too wet to play it is not ready for it is not dry wet is rain wet is paint wet
al
how often do i need to say no?
you’d think that maybe you could see it in my eye the way i see the fear in yours.
but who’s right about anything these days?
let’s just pretend we cant see.
lucius12
Soaked. Saturated. The rain weighed me down, every drop adding to the weight that already rested on my shoulders. I couldn’t tell him….how would he understand? As I debated, the rain kept falling.
wet
the sun has not come out to say hello to you.
damp around the edges
of your feet
and your eyelashes
wet because
he broke your promise
just as the sky
broke the clouds
Johanna
Water. The ocean. The way the waves beat against the shore, slowly wearing it down. The way it takes glass and makes it soft and beautiful.
it is not wet today – I think if it would be wet I wouldn’t be here right now.
OHHHHH wet is such as funny word and can describe a bunch of different conditions.
I don’t like it when its too wet though
I must admit that I do like it when its dry and say about 70 degrees
Bart
The lake seemed so endless, so vast, reaching infinitely into the horizon. Mesmerized by the deep, dark waters, Sailor stared in awe at the beautiful glistening water. Taking a deep gulp of air, he dove in and let himself sink into the blissful nothingness
Jane
Wet. That’s what I think on that cold morning when I wake up and look out my window upon the trees heavy with droplets of water. The spider webs are laden with those miniscule droplets glistening in the sun that is just beginning to peek from behind the clouds.
Em
She sighed nervously as she parked the car. It was depressingly wet out and she had to make a run for the door. It wasn’t locked, so she pushed it open and moved anxiously into the hallway. She could hear the pitter patter of fingers on a keypad from a room at the back of the house. Her heart raced and she held her breath as she tiptoed towards the noise. The sound of the rain on the roof would have disguised her intrusion but a sudden creak of the floorboards betrayed her. Their eye met as she appeared in the doorway. “Who the f**k are you?”, he imploded.
The rain comes down. It’s the good kind of rain, real rain. Not drizzle, not fog, but terrential, heavens opening, sky cracking, buckets upon buckets upon buckets. They fall and they fall only on me. I did not bring an umbrella. I did not wear sensible shoes. My jeans feel heavy.
L.
Wet as paint wet as water what is the meaning as we try and throttle all without a bottle. Wet is cool wet is good wet is what I almost could. Wet is wet what wet whatever you think wet what you want. Wet is great when in the summer wet is what makes you feel great in the midst of summer heat.
She shook her hair and looked up. The rain had yet to cease, but she didn’t mind. The sound of shoes splashing in a puddle brought her back to the real world.
“What are you doing? Get down from there!” A deep man’s voice yelled. She looked at him, then jumped.
sopping and dripping on my immaculate carpet, you lean forward and look saved in my eyelids that flutter closed because your voice is sweet and dangerous and wet with mysterious pasts and thing is only imagine in the dark i would ever do. Please stay, but i know you wont you never could
Serene
She picked up her shoes and walked out the door. No umbrella, no jacket. Just the sound of the rain hitting the pavement. She wanted to feel that rain again; she wanted to feel real. She longed to be real. She wished that this could be her last rain…
Olivia
cold damp wanted water h2o gone but hotter wonering where it flows noing ignorance toes 80% water what do we care lost in space or lost between our face
and hair
Anastacia
Bathtub. I pictured bubbles. But after you take a bath I always feel fresh and new. I hate it when its wet outside. Those days where the rain just kind of continues throughout the whole afternoon.
Oh god is it that every word on this site starts getting me thinking about sex? Is this what everyone was talking about with the male brain? I mean now I just want to start thinking else where. Wet? How about a sprinkler on a hot summer day…with a really hot guy running through it? Psshhh useless. Absolutely useless. Cheers to sex.
It was a very cold day, probably because it was so wet outside. I was walking alone down an empty street, with no umbrella and no hope. Sometimes days are just too much to handle, especially when it’s raining and it seems there is nothing at all to look forward to. I felt alone and forsaken. Nothing to do but watch the raindrops and allow my own raindrops to fall from my eyes. It was another one of those days, I guess. But tomorrow would be better, right? It had to be. It just had to be.
Jess
the rain drops fall from the sky, and the tears from my cheeks. I cant believe that he’s gone, I just can’t. It’s like having everything you’ve ever wanted, and then having it taken away all at once. That’s how it feels to lose someone you love.
Kelsey Frank
water. swim. dark. scary. cold. hard. drowning. showers. floating. the ocean. a lake.
Alex Dowd
Go forward! Go backward. Go up. Go down. Go out. Go home. Go.
Just go!
the droplets of rain slowly fall from her coat leaving a wet shadow in her wake
she tosses her umbrella on the ratty carpet and shakes her head
her raven mane dances through the air before framing her face and lying across her shoulders
she raises her eyes to look at me and her face glistens with rain
her eyes flash with something unfamiliar and cold, her red lips upturn in a grin
“I’ve been waiting for you to let me in”
whatever dr amphor had given me, made my thoughts blaze like fireworks against the blackness of my mind. I moved slowly, like a reluctant waiter, underwater. a traffic light shone on the wet, black road, blinking meaninglessly. I stared at it for two or three million years. I was far from home. I was in trouble. I was wearing one shoe.
It’s nighttime, and clear. My feet are wet from running in the grass, and I’m laughing at something he said, his words still floating in the air behind us. He’s trying to catch me, hand grasping at empty air as he just misses the back of my shirt. The warm summer air is filled with the noises of the crickets, and the fluttering lights of the lightning bugs. I run a little faster, get a little further out of his reach, and swing around so that he just stops himself before bumping into me. I put my hand on his shoulder, panting, and leaning over a little to clutch the stitch in my side. He holds my hand there, laughing and panting, and if we look up, we would see the stars smiling their warm light down at us.
His hair was wet, clothes hung in rags around him
Blue eyes flashing
There was a knife in his hand.
It split the raindrops into a thousand slivers
That reflected the light from her cold eyes
She did not scream
She knew
Her knife was bigger
I think sad and gloomy. A wet heart, drenched and soggy, heavy with the added weight. I think rainy days and the color of gray flashes to my mind. Wet can only be associated with coldness.
The rain dripped down his forehead, wetting his eyebrows and tickling his nose. He did not wipe it away, for that would mean lowering the flag he held, and he would not do that until the bugler had finished his salute and his father’s coffin had been lowered into his grave.
I am so wet! I can’t believe this downpour. It’s was never worse, not since I spent a week in london and then another 10 days again with both my brother and my dad.
It poured that night, the water dripped off Martin’s boots staining the ground where he stepped. He brushed his hands through his hair, drying it the best he could. He shuddered, not so much from the cold air as it shot across his cold body, more or less due to the memory that wouldn’t cease itself in his brain, like a rerun of some twisted film.
Oh Gross! I put my hand down on the chair arm and it’s covered!
with what!
the dog’s damn slobber! It’s wet and gross!
Ewww!
I’m gonna throw up now.
Just wash your hands, I’ll get the chair cleaned up!
His tongue is wet and gross. I don’t like it. I wish he would keep it away from me, but he won’t stop licking me. His breathing is so heavy. Why is he so needy? I always have to feed him, bathe him, go on walks with him. I have no space at all. It’s like having a mentally handicapped child, except the association isn’t obligatory at all.
The rain pours over my body. My skin is wet and I am cold. I’m shivering slightly and I can see my breath in the night air. But it is a good feeling. I feel awake and refreshed. I close my eyes, breathing in deeply, filling my lungs. I feel….alive.
New York’s Hottest Club is WET. Located in the middle of the Hudson River, this 24-hour no-pants party is the creation of Ex-Hustler, Abs McGee. And this club has Everything: Swimsuits, foam, glow-in-the dark body paint, glitter, and Human Water Wings.
The road was wet. As wet as her cheeks from the tears running down her face. She was leaving everything she knew behind. But she knew that if she didn’t leave, she would be swallowed up whole. She would lose herself completely in what had become her life. So she left.
How exciting.
It was that time of year. The lost middle between the heat and beauty of summer to the harsh chill of winter. And always, we were stuck waiting for the weather man’s predictions. When would the snow come? Was there any heat to be had before the cold snap?
Two girls, both barely old enough to drive, skidded down the rural pavement of the back roads. The sky as grey, listless as the passenger’s gaze. Snow fell in huge flaks, twirling in the air. The world was losing its colour; trees hovered between yellowed leaves and powdered skeletons reaching up to th sky.
“…It’s like a never-ending mirror.” She whispered, watching the wet ribbon of cement pass by.
completely a dirty thought. I’ve never even finished, well not with someone at least. he doesn’t know that. but the sex is good. I ask for it consistently almost everyday so i guess he is doing something right. oh god i just said all that…
but that’s what he does to me. No apologies.
Rain drops rested on the glass, obscuring the world as it quickly passed by outside my window. If only I had time to stop and breathe it all in for a while.
Wet. Dripping. Bleeding mascara down a porcelain face. Rain washing away the pain and suffering.
damn it i love you
rain drops falling and windows are cloudy
and umbrellas are vibrant in umber
and nothingness
and i see clouds
and I see your face
and we have nothing in common
but i kiss you anyways
because that’s what we do when it’s raining
and you’re next to me
The road was slick with rain, it was already difficult to see through my tears that kept falling down my face, and the sobs that rattled my whole body
it what i want to feel when I’m dirty it is what makes me feel clean and good it is too wet to play it is not ready for it is not dry wet is rain wet is paint wet
how often do i need to say no?
you’d think that maybe you could see it in my eye the way i see the fear in yours.
but who’s right about anything these days?
let’s just pretend we cant see.
Soaked. Saturated. The rain weighed me down, every drop adding to the weight that already rested on my shoulders. I couldn’t tell him….how would he understand? As I debated, the rain kept falling.
wet
the sun has not come out to say hello to you.
damp around the edges
of your feet
and your eyelashes
wet because
he broke your promise
just as the sky
broke the clouds
Water. The ocean. The way the waves beat against the shore, slowly wearing it down. The way it takes glass and makes it soft and beautiful.
it is not wet today – I think if it would be wet I wouldn’t be here right now.
OHHHHH wet is such as funny word and can describe a bunch of different conditions.
I don’t like it when its too wet though
I must admit that I do like it when its dry and say about 70 degrees
The lake seemed so endless, so vast, reaching infinitely into the horizon. Mesmerized by the deep, dark waters, Sailor stared in awe at the beautiful glistening water. Taking a deep gulp of air, he dove in and let himself sink into the blissful nothingness
Wet. That’s what I think on that cold morning when I wake up and look out my window upon the trees heavy with droplets of water. The spider webs are laden with those miniscule droplets glistening in the sun that is just beginning to peek from behind the clouds.
She sighed nervously as she parked the car. It was depressingly wet out and she had to make a run for the door. It wasn’t locked, so she pushed it open and moved anxiously into the hallway. She could hear the pitter patter of fingers on a keypad from a room at the back of the house. Her heart raced and she held her breath as she tiptoed towards the noise. The sound of the rain on the roof would have disguised her intrusion but a sudden creak of the floorboards betrayed her. Their eye met as she appeared in the doorway. “Who the f**k are you?”, he imploded.
The rain comes down. It’s the good kind of rain, real rain. Not drizzle, not fog, but terrential, heavens opening, sky cracking, buckets upon buckets upon buckets. They fall and they fall only on me. I did not bring an umbrella. I did not wear sensible shoes. My jeans feel heavy.
Wet as paint wet as water what is the meaning as we try and throttle all without a bottle. Wet is cool wet is good wet is what I almost could. Wet is wet what wet whatever you think wet what you want. Wet is great when in the summer wet is what makes you feel great in the midst of summer heat.
She shook her hair and looked up. The rain had yet to cease, but she didn’t mind. The sound of shoes splashing in a puddle brought her back to the real world.
“What are you doing? Get down from there!” A deep man’s voice yelled. She looked at him, then jumped.
sopping and dripping on my immaculate carpet, you lean forward and look saved in my eyelids that flutter closed because your voice is sweet and dangerous and wet with mysterious pasts and thing is only imagine in the dark i would ever do. Please stay, but i know you wont you never could
She picked up her shoes and walked out the door. No umbrella, no jacket. Just the sound of the rain hitting the pavement. She wanted to feel that rain again; she wanted to feel real. She longed to be real. She wished that this could be her last rain…
cold damp wanted water h2o gone but hotter wonering where it flows noing ignorance toes 80% water what do we care lost in space or lost between our face
and hair
Bathtub. I pictured bubbles. But after you take a bath I always feel fresh and new. I hate it when its wet outside. Those days where the rain just kind of continues throughout the whole afternoon.
Oh god is it that every word on this site starts getting me thinking about sex? Is this what everyone was talking about with the male brain? I mean now I just want to start thinking else where. Wet? How about a sprinkler on a hot summer day…with a really hot guy running through it? Psshhh useless. Absolutely useless. Cheers to sex.
It was a very cold day, probably because it was so wet outside. I was walking alone down an empty street, with no umbrella and no hope. Sometimes days are just too much to handle, especially when it’s raining and it seems there is nothing at all to look forward to. I felt alone and forsaken. Nothing to do but watch the raindrops and allow my own raindrops to fall from my eyes. It was another one of those days, I guess. But tomorrow would be better, right? It had to be. It just had to be.
the rain drops fall from the sky, and the tears from my cheeks. I cant believe that he’s gone, I just can’t. It’s like having everything you’ve ever wanted, and then having it taken away all at once. That’s how it feels to lose someone you love.
water. swim. dark. scary. cold. hard. drowning. showers. floating. the ocean. a lake.
Go forward! Go backward. Go up. Go down. Go out. Go home. Go.
Just go!
the droplets of rain slowly fall from her coat leaving a wet shadow in her wake
she tosses her umbrella on the ratty carpet and shakes her head
her raven mane dances through the air before framing her face and lying across her shoulders
she raises her eyes to look at me and her face glistens with rain
her eyes flash with something unfamiliar and cold, her red lips upturn in a grin
“I’ve been waiting for you to let me in”
whatever dr amphor had given me, made my thoughts blaze like fireworks against the blackness of my mind. I moved slowly, like a reluctant waiter, underwater. a traffic light shone on the wet, black road, blinking meaninglessly. I stared at it for two or three million years. I was far from home. I was in trouble. I was wearing one shoe.
It’s nighttime, and clear. My feet are wet from running in the grass, and I’m laughing at something he said, his words still floating in the air behind us. He’s trying to catch me, hand grasping at empty air as he just misses the back of my shirt. The warm summer air is filled with the noises of the crickets, and the fluttering lights of the lightning bugs. I run a little faster, get a little further out of his reach, and swing around so that he just stops himself before bumping into me. I put my hand on his shoulder, panting, and leaning over a little to clutch the stitch in my side. He holds my hand there, laughing and panting, and if we look up, we would see the stars smiling their warm light down at us.
His hair was wet, clothes hung in rags around him
Blue eyes flashing
There was a knife in his hand.
It split the raindrops into a thousand slivers
That reflected the light from her cold eyes
She did not scream
She knew
Her knife was bigger