Crumpled and almost absent of life. Pitiful. The breath is about to leave it as it hangs there. Of all the things I feel, today I am withered. The cord of life an inch away from being cut. Used up. Thrown away. Not hated or loved but pitied. Wasted away.
Dana
My body feels withered and so does my brain. I feel as if a vacuum were sitting at the bottom of my stomach sucking out all of the air.
fallen decayed leaves floated effortlessly toward the cold damp of the concrete.There was nothing left to say. all that was not supposed to happen had happened.
rawbb
i wither like trees everyday
wither
red
red
dead
wither and slither
lives turn to sewers
i wither
i shiver
wither
wither
wither
with the weather
i wither
and sliver
at least i love
live
er
Arti Chokes
The end of something very old is withered, like withering skin, its beautiful, and wise, and knowledgbale about our unknown. Its like nature, it has reached one with its creator, just like how trees, and leaves, and the earth withers, it has withered away to die, in a beautful, ancient, knowledgable way
Sadie
What the h$ll does withered mean?Oh, bring on the minecraft fanboys, oh boy.
Derp
Withered, broken, aged before the proper time, storms, anger, frustration, thunder, lightning strikes, emptiness, echoes, silence, deafening void, a barrage of tears, stinging, salty, burning, sleep denied again.
You will age as I will age and I realize with disdain that
more than my father and more than my mother and more than my very best friends
I am afraid to see you die
for I am on the outskirts of your life
and cannot face the fact that I will never really know you.
Will it be strange for me to attend your future funeral?
She held the flower in her hand, watching it wither. It withered like their love, she thought. Withered away slowly, until it was so weak that it died.
Tired and old. shriviled up, dried out. weathered, wrinkled.
Mary
Ten years of caring for his wife had left him tired and withered. With each passing day another light would go out, another memory would be laid to rest in her sweet suffering mind. And despite his best intentions, each day he began to love her a little less.
She was tired of the same old dreary day. Although young, her beauty began fading faster than she had ever imagined when she was a vibrant young woman. The failed loves, the unhappy jobs, and the need for something greater overtook her. She didn’t want to be a withered woman, full of regrets, reliving her past. She wanted to fly.
Lauren
the foul mouthed sprawling trees
knarling soup
sips up sap
comes down
down
down
until gone
I am withering away
like a dandelion in the breeze
can’t you see?
If I disperse
in all the cardinal directions
how will I ever be able to
find myself again?
You don’t understand
health is everything
and I am
sick
It’s not my fault,
it’s this disease
I’m tired of people
telling me
to get over it
because I can’t
when my body and mind
are withering away,
just one little breeze
makes me sway,
and a gust will surely
make
me
fall
and No one can save me
if I am already rotting on the ground
Chains don’t exactly wither. They corrode. Nothing lasts forever, and yet there are many forms of echoes. Ripples wave on ridges like fingerprints on time.
The roses looked so beautifully in the garden .
The children played
the parents had tea.
but soon this all came to an end.
the children grew up and left
the parents grew older and passes.
and those beautiful roses
withered away like everything else in that town
^^ Oh gosh, that was so dark. this is why i dont come here.
Jessicaa
Leather loafers after a walk in the river, creaking
and the screams as it dries
once had life, and now it flies
swirling away, they shrink without speaking
twisted and old, maybe still young
but under the wrinkles beauty’s undone
and lost innocence always prevails, it seems
and the fountain of youth is only in dreams
so, they can no longer be worn, these worn shoes of mine
and they are put with the rubbish, there they are swept
away through the town like a lady who wept
rubies and emeralds flowed from her eyes
And that is the pain when a flower just dies.
The flower was so beautiful until it withered under the hot sun. Is that what happens to people when they get too much sun? Their beauty withers until their once glowing shiney skin has the life sucked out of it.
The rose had been slowly dying for the last day. I’d been watching it, showering it liberally with the special mixture LeeAn had made. But it was no use. I knew it, the rose was dying. And so to, were we
The tree stood, withered, but towering over the devastated landscape around it;
buildings leveled, debris scattered, cars and trucks thrown around like toys.
tonykeyesjapan
The flowers that withered in the winter are beginning to bloom again. The weather becomes warmer and the sun shines longer and longer. You can hear the birds sing in the trees and just smile at the return of spring. A spring that I have waited a long time for because it means one thing. We’ll be together soon.
She was smaller than he remembered. He had always seen her as huge- larger than life, ten feet tall even. But now. Now, he could see her as she always was. He could see her imperfections, her stooped aching shoulders. His mother. He had always though of her as impermeable, strong and impossibly solid. Something he could look up to, but never. Ever obtain. Seeing her aching, broken. He knew how he was supposed to feel- the pain and fear. But all he felt was giddy. It was his mother who had created a monster. He was just the guy who went along with the grand scheme.
She look at the old man, dried-up, withered, looking like he’d given up, no smiles cracked that face, no cheer brightened his day, no love of life showed in his sad, gray eyes.
Rick Browne
I see the fraying rope, tethering me to all that I don’t want to be; someone ago that I am trying to let go. It is gray and old but the last strings hold on still–I can’t count the bitemarks, I can’t feel the softness that comes only with time. That rope is still so rough, it never stopped being brand-new, even after being beaten and old. It doesn’t fall away, it doesn’t get easier. Holds me tighter to the metal, the dirt on the ground.
dried up no longer vigorous unhealthy old without vibrance
searan
The sun had drifted upon the horizon, the day was withered away by the gently breeze of the wind between the trees. I was searching for an adventure at this time of night and could only find it cuddled up by the fire place with a mystery novel.
she felt this way, but didn’t look it. Couldn’t see the lines when she looked in the mirror… But she felt it. Her heart, her chest, her lungs… They all felt withered and old and sad. Like they had lived too long too soon, seen too much in too short of a time frame. Her heart especially, cracked and dry and lonely.
she was a withered soul and all she could do was cry. day and night, all day. what can come of crying? she could mend herself, maybe even help others see that they can pull themselves out of a hell they had no choice but to fall in, but it was common knowledge that no matter where she went, they all knew she was withered.
anna
And he sank down into a chair, withered and wilted; jilted and defeated. For what was he if she thought nothing of him? What did any of it matter without her? And he sank further into the chair, collapsing into its folds as his world crumbled around him.
there is a withered leaf that has turned a heart from being full and alive to the exact same fate! Life has inexplicably betrayed the same fate to both. they will both age and then die.
Ariana
He placed a freezing hand on a withered cheek.
“Good bye, mother” He said quietly, softly. There was a soft smile on his face. “Rest now, the forest will take care of you now.”
Erika very slowly, very carefully sat down beneath the withered maple tree. When she was finally sitting, she sighed and leaned her white head back against the bark.
“Good morning, dear,” she whispered. “Winter’s almost over.”
She was a rotten old lady
she hated me.
the sound of my skateboard, to the length of my hair, even the holes in my jeans.
I loved her though.
The poor withered thing, she was just lonely.
And I was just always around to accompany her.
She could just never admit she enjoyed it.
smaller and smaller the cares grow as my mind indulges itself in my studies. Physicality and my body wither away in importance as my imagination takes over. I feel such as a walking brain awaiting the opportunity to show the insides of a person to the outside world.
masked habit
He looks down at his feet, at the one withered flower. Picking it up, he exchanges it for the one that he brought with him.
“I’m sorry no one else comes, it’s just that, no one else knows.”
He continues on with the highlights of his week, and just like the weeks past he ends it the same way.
“They won’t catch me. I’ll be back next week. I promise.”
The flowers sat there, in the center of the table, in the clear glass vase – withered. Looking @ those flowers, I realized I too have withered. The eating disorder had taken over every single aspect of my life. I looked over @ the mirror and a single tear ran down my hollow cheek.
Nicole
old and sad, breaking in storms.
im withered
i gave you myself
you took me, sucked out my marrow adn then you left me
.
.
.
.
withered…
AmandaL
I withered in his presence. It had been two years since I saw him, but he still had that affect on me. I still loved him. I made out with him, and at the same time, I wanted to kill him. It had been over for more than two years, but I still melted when I saw him. Was this the gift he was trying to offer me, a brief dalliance in a shopping mall parking lot?
Crumpled and almost absent of life. Pitiful. The breath is about to leave it as it hangs there. Of all the things I feel, today I am withered. The cord of life an inch away from being cut. Used up. Thrown away. Not hated or loved but pitied. Wasted away.
My body feels withered and so does my brain. I feel as if a vacuum were sitting at the bottom of my stomach sucking out all of the air.
fallen decayed leaves floated effortlessly toward the cold damp of the concrete.There was nothing left to say. all that was not supposed to happen had happened.
i wither like trees everyday
wither
red
red
dead
wither and slither
lives turn to sewers
i wither
i shiver
wither
wither
wither
with the weather
i wither
and sliver
at least i love
live
er
The end of something very old is withered, like withering skin, its beautiful, and wise, and knowledgbale about our unknown. Its like nature, it has reached one with its creator, just like how trees, and leaves, and the earth withers, it has withered away to die, in a beautful, ancient, knowledgable way
What the h$ll does withered mean?Oh, bring on the minecraft fanboys, oh boy.
Withered, broken, aged before the proper time, storms, anger, frustration, thunder, lightning strikes, emptiness, echoes, silence, deafening void, a barrage of tears, stinging, salty, burning, sleep denied again.
You will age as I will age and I realize with disdain that
more than my father and more than my mother and more than my very best friends
I am afraid to see you die
for I am on the outskirts of your life
and cannot face the fact that I will never really know you.
Will it be strange for me to attend your future funeral?
She held the flower in her hand, watching it wither. It withered like their love, she thought. Withered away slowly, until it was so weak that it died.
There she lay, withered and panting like a rose diving for water. There were no hands to hold on this ledge, she thought.
Tired and old. shriviled up, dried out. weathered, wrinkled.
Ten years of caring for his wife had left him tired and withered. With each passing day another light would go out, another memory would be laid to rest in her sweet suffering mind. And despite his best intentions, each day he began to love her a little less.
She was tired of the same old dreary day. Although young, her beauty began fading faster than she had ever imagined when she was a vibrant young woman. The failed loves, the unhappy jobs, and the need for something greater overtook her. She didn’t want to be a withered woman, full of regrets, reliving her past. She wanted to fly.
the foul mouthed sprawling trees
knarling soup
sips up sap
comes down
down
down
until gone
I am withering away
like a dandelion in the breeze
can’t you see?
If I disperse
in all the cardinal directions
how will I ever be able to
find myself again?
You don’t understand
health is everything
and I am
sick
It’s not my fault,
it’s this disease
I’m tired of people
telling me
to get over it
because I can’t
when my body and mind
are withering away,
just one little breeze
makes me sway,
and a gust will surely
make
me
fall
and No one can save me
if I am already rotting on the ground
Shriveled and parched.
The withered retreat into themselves scared to express
curling and shrinking, I promise I can change.
Is there no release from my small form
I am larger than all of you really truly
I believe it is so
Why does no one act that way.
Chains don’t exactly wither. They corrode. Nothing lasts forever, and yet there are many forms of echoes. Ripples wave on ridges like fingerprints on time.
The roses looked so beautifully in the garden .
The children played
the parents had tea.
but soon this all came to an end.
the children grew up and left
the parents grew older and passes.
and those beautiful roses
withered away like everything else in that town
^^ Oh gosh, that was so dark. this is why i dont come here.
Leather loafers after a walk in the river, creaking
and the screams as it dries
once had life, and now it flies
swirling away, they shrink without speaking
twisted and old, maybe still young
but under the wrinkles beauty’s undone
and lost innocence always prevails, it seems
and the fountain of youth is only in dreams
so, they can no longer be worn, these worn shoes of mine
and they are put with the rubbish, there they are swept
away through the town like a lady who wept
rubies and emeralds flowed from her eyes
And that is the pain when a flower just dies.
The flower was so beautiful until it withered under the hot sun. Is that what happens to people when they get too much sun? Their beauty withers until their once glowing shiney skin has the life sucked out of it.
The rose had been slowly dying for the last day. I’d been watching it, showering it liberally with the special mixture LeeAn had made. But it was no use. I knew it, the rose was dying. And so to, were we
The tree stood, withered, but towering over the devastated landscape around it;
buildings leveled, debris scattered, cars and trucks thrown around like toys.
The flowers that withered in the winter are beginning to bloom again. The weather becomes warmer and the sun shines longer and longer. You can hear the birds sing in the trees and just smile at the return of spring. A spring that I have waited a long time for because it means one thing. We’ll be together soon.
She was smaller than he remembered. He had always seen her as huge- larger than life, ten feet tall even. But now. Now, he could see her as she always was. He could see her imperfections, her stooped aching shoulders. His mother. He had always though of her as impermeable, strong and impossibly solid. Something he could look up to, but never. Ever obtain. Seeing her aching, broken. He knew how he was supposed to feel- the pain and fear. But all he felt was giddy. It was his mother who had created a monster. He was just the guy who went along with the grand scheme.
She look at the old man, dried-up, withered, looking like he’d given up, no smiles cracked that face, no cheer brightened his day, no love of life showed in his sad, gray eyes.
I see the fraying rope, tethering me to all that I don’t want to be; someone ago that I am trying to let go. It is gray and old but the last strings hold on still–I can’t count the bitemarks, I can’t feel the softness that comes only with time. That rope is still so rough, it never stopped being brand-new, even after being beaten and old. It doesn’t fall away, it doesn’t get easier. Holds me tighter to the metal, the dirt on the ground.
dried up no longer vigorous unhealthy old without vibrance
The sun had drifted upon the horizon, the day was withered away by the gently breeze of the wind between the trees. I was searching for an adventure at this time of night and could only find it cuddled up by the fire place with a mystery novel.
she felt this way, but didn’t look it. Couldn’t see the lines when she looked in the mirror… But she felt it. Her heart, her chest, her lungs… They all felt withered and old and sad. Like they had lived too long too soon, seen too much in too short of a time frame. Her heart especially, cracked and dry and lonely.
she was a withered soul and all she could do was cry. day and night, all day. what can come of crying? she could mend herself, maybe even help others see that they can pull themselves out of a hell they had no choice but to fall in, but it was common knowledge that no matter where she went, they all knew she was withered.
And he sank down into a chair, withered and wilted; jilted and defeated. For what was he if she thought nothing of him? What did any of it matter without her? And he sank further into the chair, collapsing into its folds as his world crumbled around him.
there is a withered leaf that has turned a heart from being full and alive to the exact same fate! Life has inexplicably betrayed the same fate to both. they will both age and then die.
He placed a freezing hand on a withered cheek.
“Good bye, mother” He said quietly, softly. There was a soft smile on his face. “Rest now, the forest will take care of you now.”
Erika very slowly, very carefully sat down beneath the withered maple tree. When she was finally sitting, she sighed and leaned her white head back against the bark.
“Good morning, dear,” she whispered. “Winter’s almost over.”
She was a rotten old lady
she hated me.
the sound of my skateboard, to the length of my hair, even the holes in my jeans.
I loved her though.
The poor withered thing, she was just lonely.
And I was just always around to accompany her.
She could just never admit she enjoyed it.
smaller and smaller the cares grow as my mind indulges itself in my studies. Physicality and my body wither away in importance as my imagination takes over. I feel such as a walking brain awaiting the opportunity to show the insides of a person to the outside world.
He looks down at his feet, at the one withered flower. Picking it up, he exchanges it for the one that he brought with him.
“I’m sorry no one else comes, it’s just that, no one else knows.”
He continues on with the highlights of his week, and just like the weeks past he ends it the same way.
“They won’t catch me. I’ll be back next week. I promise.”
The flowers sat there, in the center of the table, in the clear glass vase – withered. Looking @ those flowers, I realized I too have withered. The eating disorder had taken over every single aspect of my life. I looked over @ the mirror and a single tear ran down my hollow cheek.
old and sad, breaking in storms.
im withered
i gave you myself
you took me, sucked out my marrow adn then you left me
.
.
.
.
withered…
I withered in his presence. It had been two years since I saw him, but he still had that affect on me. I still loved him. I made out with him, and at the same time, I wanted to kill him. It had been over for more than two years, but I still melted when I saw him. Was this the gift he was trying to offer me, a brief dalliance in a shopping mall parking lot?