They come after me; hunting. They circle around me. Words tear at my flesh like teeth. They devour me. They watch me bleed. This is the fun; this is the game. And I am the bait; their meal.
“Hark. There are sharks attacking the arks rks ks s” echoed a voice.
Steve O
Sharks, they steal all we have. Hungry for more, even though they have enough. They ruin; its their game; their fun. Dangerous and evil, they roam the seas, taking as they go. Are you a shark or a hapless victim of their trickery?
Behind Shadows
As I looked at the sharks, and prepared to make my pitch, an odd nervousness came over me and my voice immediately left. It had been a while since I had a panic attack like this, and it would certainly not hep me gain what I had came for.
Knuckles McGee
can bite. bite really hard, hard enough to take a limb off. Sharks also have sandpaper skin which has an acidic odor out of the ocean. The meat is dry, devoid of flavor, and a waste of time and much more precious resources, including the sharks themselves.
the dude from Arizona swam after Nurse sharks. I don’t know what that MO was about. Probably so the little turd could go back to the desert to announce capturing a shark. Win some lady suckers over for the night. Too bad, he was a handsome crud muffin.
Janet
I don’t know what i can to speak about sharks but i know tat i have fear him
Wendell
The shark eat the fish
Wendell
“Blood in the Water” swung onto her iPod as she clicked down Pennsylvania Avenue in her heels.
Oh. Yes. A shark. I can be a shark.
I’m done being the quiet little nice girl from Maine.
I think.
Sharks stay in constant motion. They don’t have time for the kind of indecision that comes with recharging your life goals.
It came for me. Faster than i ever expected it to move, i was caught and in its jaws but strangely felt no pain. I opened my eyes to see that it didn’t pierce me but was holding my arm tenderly in its strong jaws.
Tigerflame
:-)
daisy
He grunts, smile almost as sharp as a shark’s. You should be used to the way he reacts to you – the way he seems to want to eat you up, all predator-like – but you’re not, and you don’t you think you ever will be.
Everywhere I go, I see this nightmare i had. Sharks as I call it. Like sharks, they come to me slowly and eat me up. Until I can’t feel myself anymore. The sharks of my past.
the sharks attack had decreased since cynthia’s death.
nobody could tell exactly why — her death had been during that period where they prophetized the sharks would start coming closer and closer the shores, due to a lack of sufficient fishes in the sea. cynthia’s death had been mourned, but had also been used as a warning to not wander too far out the beach. they expected more attacks. more sharks. they expected bloody seas and other such horrors.
but there had been just a few cases since cynthia’s death, and none had happened anywhere close to the shore. it had been reckless youth and reckless olds far out at sea; children playing the waves had been safe.
the environmental scientists had no good hypothesis as to the whys of this. the town was baffled. and I? I expected the sharks had gotten more than they bargained for when they got a taste of Cynthia and of her tainted ghost.
What’s the scariest part of any shark? Is it the teeth? The gaping jaws of death?
Maybe it’s the fin. The most distinctive part of the shark which spells approaching doom for whoever sees it.
Megan
sharks. the only thing humans fear more than rising gas prices. Nobody knows anybody that knows anybody that’s ever seen one outside an aquarium, but bring up any policy that will help with shark protection or prevention, and there’s nobody that will vote “NO” on the funding. It’s actually pretty easy to not die of a shark attack, but I bet it’s still among the top animal or death-related fears.
when i was three, i watched a documentary on sharks, and for years after, i wouldnt let my father swim in the ocean. i doubt I remembered much about what i watched, only vicious jaws and unsuspecting swimmers, surfboards ripped in two,dead eyed underwater footage of seawater turning red.
i watched a documentary on alcoholism last week. know your enemy and all that. and i couldn’t help but wonder at the mediocrity of the decent into hell. no flashing teeth, no torn limbs. only lapping waves, softly swallowing him as he gasps for air. soon, a blood-splattered bottle will make its way to shore.
Banquet.
I ate and ate and ate. It left me reeling and sick. But I couldn’t stop. I ate without thinking. We laughed and drank and ate. Not realizing the hostess, sitting in the corner. Smiling greedily and sipping from her wineglass. Planning our deaths-by-gluttony. Her beauty as tantalizing and addictive and poisinous as the food placed in front of us. The addictive food put us in a sickening daze. We couldn’t stop. Didn’t stop-for years. All of us slaves.
Like a shark I prey. Quietly, silently….seeing them helplessly and ignorantly treading water. I slap on my lipstick and my sexiest smile…floating quietly nearby…waiting to take the first bite. Little does he know thats all it takes…one bite and I’m satisfied. And he’s left torn to shreds. I wasn’t always a shark, you know. I was bred this way.
They’re like land sharks. Hunting you slowly, eerily, stealthy. Then taking a bite out of you. Leaving you in excruciating pain. Just leaving you there. Bleeding and broken and torn….your Trying to swim to shore but sinking fast.
Men, who needs ’em.
sharks are in water and there we are unafraid if they are in their place and we are in our own but if we are in the water a fish out of water then we fear their jaws passing underneath our bare feet tossing in the wind of the currents and if we see a whale beached we are afraid because death belongs anywhere but where we are
lions of the sea, i suppose. Me personally, I’m afraid of the water. Not the water itself, but just what it is capable of. It is truly the most powerful natural phenomenon on earth, and that makes my balls shrink
swimming in tightening, constrictive circles, orbiting me as if I am a sinking sun and the sea is quicksand swallowing me. they are lean, streaking between the waves with their muscular grey skin, and I am emaciated, feeble, clinging to the final wet, rotting board of my long-departed raft.
i love sharks;
the way they swim so effortlessly
and the way they are feared by all
i love sharks;
they aren’t as bad as they are made out to be.
SHARKSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.
YAY.
Sharks? Well okay. I don’t really care for sharks. They scare me. I am scared everytime I get in the ocean one will appear and I’ll be gone. That’s one of the reasons I don’t like the ocean. The other is the waves over power me and I’ve come close to drowning.
Avery Sampson
the pool is full of sharks
the water is clear
But I Can see the sharks
no one else is around its only me in the pool
But i see the sharks
coming towards me
ready to rip me apart
they seem so real
they are real
they’ve got my legs they’ve got my arms
in their shark restless teeth
I’m done for
the sharks
will have no mercy
mel
Terror! Suspense! Racing heartbeat as the lifeless eyes rocket toward you with gaping rows of triangular teeth. They sink into your flesh and a thousand s
Paul Washington
I ain’t scared of sharks, my boy. It’s sharks who are scared of me. Why, all thirteen of the scars on my arms are from melees under the sea. Why, I’ve harpooned and wrestled whales of all kinds, and challenged orcas to free-for-alls. I’ve been victorious against the giant squid and sea monsters over fifty feet tall. Ever wonder why Nessie don’t show her face? It’s because of me, after all.
Protective bubble
family-style –
love and
all that
shit.
I visit you and
I’m 12 again.
I’m selfish and
overly sensitive
and ugly
and
so me.
Like sharks
you attack
and I leave
bleeding
back
home to
those who
really
love
me and
tend my
wounds.
They come after me; hunting. They circle around me. Words tear at my flesh like teeth. They devour me. They watch me bleed. This is the fun; this is the game. And I am the bait; their meal.
“Hark. There are sharks attacking the arks rks ks s” echoed a voice.
Sharks, they steal all we have. Hungry for more, even though they have enough. They ruin; its their game; their fun. Dangerous and evil, they roam the seas, taking as they go. Are you a shark or a hapless victim of their trickery?
As I looked at the sharks, and prepared to make my pitch, an odd nervousness came over me and my voice immediately left. It had been a while since I had a panic attack like this, and it would certainly not hep me gain what I had came for.
can bite. bite really hard, hard enough to take a limb off. Sharks also have sandpaper skin which has an acidic odor out of the ocean. The meat is dry, devoid of flavor, and a waste of time and much more precious resources, including the sharks themselves.
the dude from Arizona swam after Nurse sharks. I don’t know what that MO was about. Probably so the little turd could go back to the desert to announce capturing a shark. Win some lady suckers over for the night. Too bad, he was a handsome crud muffin.
I don’t know what i can to speak about sharks but i know tat i have fear him
The shark eat the fish
“Blood in the Water” swung onto her iPod as she clicked down Pennsylvania Avenue in her heels.
Oh. Yes. A shark. I can be a shark.
I’m done being the quiet little nice girl from Maine.
I think.
Sharks stay in constant motion. They don’t have time for the kind of indecision that comes with recharging your life goals.
It came for me. Faster than i ever expected it to move, i was caught and in its jaws but strangely felt no pain. I opened my eyes to see that it didn’t pierce me but was holding my arm tenderly in its strong jaws.
:-)
He grunts, smile almost as sharp as a shark’s. You should be used to the way he reacts to you – the way he seems to want to eat you up, all predator-like – but you’re not, and you don’t you think you ever will be.
Everywhere I go, I see this nightmare i had. Sharks as I call it. Like sharks, they come to me slowly and eat me up. Until I can’t feel myself anymore. The sharks of my past.
the sharks attack had decreased since cynthia’s death.
nobody could tell exactly why — her death had been during that period where they prophetized the sharks would start coming closer and closer the shores, due to a lack of sufficient fishes in the sea. cynthia’s death had been mourned, but had also been used as a warning to not wander too far out the beach. they expected more attacks. more sharks. they expected bloody seas and other such horrors.
but there had been just a few cases since cynthia’s death, and none had happened anywhere close to the shore. it had been reckless youth and reckless olds far out at sea; children playing the waves had been safe.
the environmental scientists had no good hypothesis as to the whys of this. the town was baffled. and I? I expected the sharks had gotten more than they bargained for when they got a taste of Cynthia and of her tainted ghost.
business sharks were always the scariest, for her. they were cold, sharp, predatory, and she hated it.
maybe she just hated dealing with things. yes, that sounded about right.
yachting in the ocean, smoking outside the car lot, circling, desperate for enough to eat, gnashing teeth for approval
What’s the scariest part of any shark? Is it the teeth? The gaping jaws of death?
Maybe it’s the fin. The most distinctive part of the shark which spells approaching doom for whoever sees it.
sharks. the only thing humans fear more than rising gas prices. Nobody knows anybody that knows anybody that’s ever seen one outside an aquarium, but bring up any policy that will help with shark protection or prevention, and there’s nobody that will vote “NO” on the funding. It’s actually pretty easy to not die of a shark attack, but I bet it’s still among the top animal or death-related fears.
when i was three, i watched a documentary on sharks, and for years after, i wouldnt let my father swim in the ocean. i doubt I remembered much about what i watched, only vicious jaws and unsuspecting swimmers, surfboards ripped in two,dead eyed underwater footage of seawater turning red.
i watched a documentary on alcoholism last week. know your enemy and all that. and i couldn’t help but wonder at the mediocrity of the decent into hell. no flashing teeth, no torn limbs. only lapping waves, softly swallowing him as he gasps for air. soon, a blood-splattered bottle will make its way to shore.
Banquet.
I ate and ate and ate. It left me reeling and sick. But I couldn’t stop. I ate without thinking. We laughed and drank and ate. Not realizing the hostess, sitting in the corner. Smiling greedily and sipping from her wineglass. Planning our deaths-by-gluttony. Her beauty as tantalizing and addictive and poisinous as the food placed in front of us. The addictive food put us in a sickening daze. We couldn’t stop. Didn’t stop-for years. All of us slaves.
Like a shark I prey. Quietly, silently….seeing them helplessly and ignorantly treading water. I slap on my lipstick and my sexiest smile…floating quietly nearby…waiting to take the first bite. Little does he know thats all it takes…one bite and I’m satisfied. And he’s left torn to shreds. I wasn’t always a shark, you know. I was bred this way.
They’re like land sharks. Hunting you slowly, eerily, stealthy. Then taking a bite out of you. Leaving you in excruciating pain. Just leaving you there. Bleeding and broken and torn….your Trying to swim to shore but sinking fast.
Men, who needs ’em.
sharks are in water and there we are unafraid if they are in their place and we are in our own but if we are in the water a fish out of water then we fear their jaws passing underneath our bare feet tossing in the wind of the currents and if we see a whale beached we are afraid because death belongs anywhere but where we are
lions of the sea, i suppose. Me personally, I’m afraid of the water. Not the water itself, but just what it is capable of. It is truly the most powerful natural phenomenon on earth, and that makes my balls shrink
swimming in tightening, constrictive circles, orbiting me as if I am a sinking sun and the sea is quicksand swallowing me. they are lean, streaking between the waves with their muscular grey skin, and I am emaciated, feeble, clinging to the final wet, rotting board of my long-departed raft.
i love sharks;
the way they swim so effortlessly
and the way they are feared by all
i love sharks;
they aren’t as bad as they are made out to be.
SHARKSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.
YAY.
Sharks? Well okay. I don’t really care for sharks. They scare me. I am scared everytime I get in the ocean one will appear and I’ll be gone. That’s one of the reasons I don’t like the ocean. The other is the waves over power me and I’ve come close to drowning.
the pool is full of sharks
the water is clear
But I Can see the sharks
no one else is around its only me in the pool
But i see the sharks
coming towards me
ready to rip me apart
they seem so real
they are real
they’ve got my legs they’ve got my arms
in their shark restless teeth
I’m done for
the sharks
will have no mercy
Terror! Suspense! Racing heartbeat as the lifeless eyes rocket toward you with gaping rows of triangular teeth. They sink into your flesh and a thousand s
I ain’t scared of sharks, my boy. It’s sharks who are scared of me. Why, all thirteen of the scars on my arms are from melees under the sea. Why, I’ve harpooned and wrestled whales of all kinds, and challenged orcas to free-for-alls. I’ve been victorious against the giant squid and sea monsters over fifty feet tall. Ever wonder why Nessie don’t show her face? It’s because of me, after all.