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What Happened When Our Lips Locked

What Happened When Our Lips Locked. All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once as soft as water. And that's the tragedy of living." -pleasefindthis. Saturday, July 11, 2015. My street has milk cartons for houses,. Paper-thin walls decomposing with every spoonful of sugar. Last night i heard her bed frame beat against the wall like fists. I notice all of my metaphors have violent undertones and i don't know what that says about me or the influence of the media. But i think about him sometimes.

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What Happened When Our Lips Locked | pleasefindmysummerblog.blogspot.com Reviews

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What Happened When Our Lips Locked. All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once as soft as water. And that's the tragedy of living. -pleasefindthis. Saturday, July 11, 2015. My street has milk cartons for houses,. Paper-thin walls decomposing with every spoonful of sugar. Last night i heard her bed frame beat against the wall like fists. I notice all of my metaphors have violent undertones and i don't know what that says about me or the influence of the media. But i think about him sometimes.

<META> KEYWORDS

1 phillips avenue

2 or drumbeats

3 and i do

4 you are happy

5 i've up

6 posted by

7 lexi sheffield

8 6 comments

9 email this

10 blogthis

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phillips avenue,or drumbeats,and i do,you are happy,i've ****** up,posted by,lexi sheffield,6 comments,email this,blogthis,share to twitter,share to facebook,share to pinterest,the hillside,her head ducked,lighting another match,5 comments,i'm happy,soap

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What Happened When Our Lips Locked | pleasefindmysummerblog.blogspot.com Reviews

https://pleasefindmysummerblog.blogspot.com

What Happened When Our Lips Locked. All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once as soft as water. And that's the tragedy of living." -pleasefindthis. Saturday, July 11, 2015. My street has milk cartons for houses,. Paper-thin walls decomposing with every spoonful of sugar. Last night i heard her bed frame beat against the wall like fists. I notice all of my metaphors have violent undertones and i don't know what that says about me or the influence of the media. But i think about him sometimes.

INTERNAL PAGES

pleasefindmysummerblog.blogspot.com

1

What Happened When Our Lips Locked: self portraits and religious politics

http://www.pleasefindmysummerblog.blogspot.com/2015/04/self-portraits-and-religious-politics.html

What Happened When Our Lips Locked. All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once as soft as water. And that's the tragedy of living." -pleasefindthis. Sunday, April 19, 2015. Self portraits and religious politics. I painted my toenails red because i don't know the color of my insides anymore. They chant "jesus for president" but a carpenter doesn't have many credentials in washington. he'll decrease the military budget and increase welfare spending. what's debt on earth is credit in heaven. My legs...

2

What Happened When Our Lips Locked: the hillside

http://www.pleasefindmysummerblog.blogspot.com/2015/07/the-hillside.html

What Happened When Our Lips Locked. All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once as soft as water. And that's the tragedy of living." -pleasefindthis. Sunday, July 5, 2015. The river colored inside the lines,. Tracing the bend of her knee,. Whispering sweet nothings to the arch of her foot. On the way to work. But she walked on by when the hill caught fire,. And a pebble for a tongue. And her love's hair went up in smoke,. Burned by the careless boy with his careless matches. That ending. Yes.

3

What Happened When Our Lips Locked: happy (not the song)

http://www.pleasefindmysummerblog.blogspot.com/2015/06/happy-not-song.html

What Happened When Our Lips Locked. All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once as soft as water. And that's the tragedy of living." -pleasefindthis. Monday, June 29, 2015. Happy (not the song). There's a picture of a teenage boy in my dining room. And even though i'm not very interested in teenage boys. I check out both genders on the daily. And i don't feel as guilty for my (often misinterpreted) bisexuality. I created an okcupid account several days ago. There's dents in the walls of my room.

4

What Happened When Our Lips Locked: October 2014

http://www.pleasefindmysummerblog.blogspot.com/2014_10_01_archive.html

What Happened When Our Lips Locked. All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once as soft as water. And that's the tragedy of living." -pleasefindthis. Friday, October 31, 2014. I’m not who you think I am. I’m not fists and I’m not hands. I’m not broken houses. Or empty medicine cabinets. Or crumbling hip bones. I’m not cracked sidewalks or exposed tree roots. I’m not the vacant apartment. Not torn wallpaper or property damage. I’m not a police report. Man, I was loved. I am not a cigarette butt.

5

What Happened When Our Lips Locked: September 2014

http://www.pleasefindmysummerblog.blogspot.com/2014_09_01_archive.html

What Happened When Our Lips Locked. All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once as soft as water. And that's the tragedy of living." -pleasefindthis. Monday, September 22, 2014. But i want to talk about eleven years old. Before thirteen there was twelve. Before twelve there was eleven. And she ran away at eleven. Eleven came with emily morrin and shaved armpits. Eleven came with doctors and diet coke. I read the sex scenes over. And i touched myself. Not knowing it was "bad". I shaved my legs.

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wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com

Where The Wild Words Are: Theatre

http://wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com/2014/11/theatre.html

A memoir of a distraught high school teen. Monday, November 3, 2014. There's a scene in my favorite movie. Two lovers holding hands, a sunset. A small house molded to her liking, a quiet beauty. Sapling life a soft vignette. There's a scene in my favorite movie. The part that makes me weep. His hands grasp the thin bony palm. Of the frame of the quiet beauty, asleep. A hospital, chords of fluid, a psalm. There's a scene in my favorite movie. His hands glide along the stone,. The hallowed ground, the grave.

wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com

Where The Wild Words Are: Now What/What Now

http://wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com/2014/05/now-whatwhat-now.html

A memoir of a distraught high school teen. Monday, May 26, 2014. Why do I always feel like the hands I interlock in front of me, and the elbows on my knees, and the eyelids that go down, and up, and down, and up, don't belong to me. Sensation is such a beautiful and strange thing if you think about it. Hopefully I'm being understood. 8220;People don't realize that the future is just now, but later.”. Posted by Ollie Roscoe. June 1, 2014 at 2:30 PM. Life will never feel how you want it to look in a picture.

wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com

Where The Wild Words Are: peeling dressers

http://wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com/2014/05/peeling-dressers.html

A memoir of a distraught high school teen. Saturday, May 10, 2014. I laid in the bed of sheetless thinking. I reached back behind the dresser of food, and books of ink. The dresser was a plywood pile of wood in a sellable shape. Over the plywood is a stensil of real wood making it appear rich. I peel the stencil off the back nervously,. Wondering if they'll see this in the inspection at eviction. But not caring that much. So it gets peeled. Posted by Ollie Roscoe. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom).

wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com

Where The Wild Words Are: People who have inspired me.(This is a new years post of some kind)

http://wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com/2014/01/people-who-have-inspired-methis-is-new.html

A memoir of a distraught high school teen. Sunday, January 5, 2014. People who have inspired me.(This is a new years post of some kind). As I write this I cannot tell you how long this list will be I have the flu and my room is spinning and I'm on the Internet. This is everyone my virus-wracked brain can poop out at the moment. There are many people who have gotten me to where I am today, for better or for worse; both will be included in the following list. My coach, made me feel worth something. You're ...

wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com

Where The Wild Words Are: This is just me

http://wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com/2014/01/this-is-just-me.html

A memoir of a distraught high school teen. Thursday, January 2, 2014. This is just me. So, I started the national novel writing month (November) with a flaming passion. It was going great until about the 3rd day. Sorry I haven't posted a lot. I have something cooking in my heart. Here I am saying this as if anyone other than Mr. Nelson, Allie, and maybe Lauren and Michaela actually read this blog anymore, after all, high school is over. I'm moving to Hawaii. I'm writing a book. I'm in love with a woman.

wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com

Where The Wild Words Are

http://wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com/2014/06/i-dont-know-why-my-pictures-arent.html

A memoir of a distraught high school teen. Wednesday, June 4, 2014. I don't know why my pictures aren't showing up. Sorry. I can't figure it out. Posted by Ollie Roscoe. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Where Have All Your Good Words Gone? The Kissing Drafts Jackie O. What Happened When Our Lips Locked. They Called Me Boomer. Tales of a wanderer. I read it in the newspaper; your obituary.I read h. To whom it will concern. I dont know why my pictures arent showing up. So.

wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com

Where The Wild Words Are: Tinder smoke

http://wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com/2013/11/tinder-smoke.html

A memoir of a distraught high school teen. Monday, November 25, 2013. I'm watching from behind the one sided glass. I'm watching the laughter and the joy. I'm watching you love and be loved. There have never been words eloquent enough- words loud enough- for you. Never good enough. My laces are untied and it's poetic. It's poetic because my laces are, in essence, like my life. I feel like a cruel science experiment actually. Love always, Zack. Posted by Ollie Roscoe. June 3, 2014 at 11:23 PM.

wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com

Where The Wild Words Are: Binocular

http://wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com/2013/08/binocular.html

A memoir of a distraught high school teen. Wednesday, August 14, 2013. You asked me what I was looking for, as always, I told you "I don't know." sorry about that by the way. I always don't know, I know it bugs the hell out of you. I sometimes just don't think enough for there to be an answer where I can say "I do know, Let me tell you". I am looking for a girl with sunkissed lips and the wanderlust brown eyes. I am looking for Magic and forests and someone who is just as lost as I am. Smiles with gaps a...

wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com

Where The Wild Words Are: April 2015

http://wherethewildwordsare.blogspot.com/2015_04_01_archive.html

A memoir of a distraught high school teen. Wednesday, April 15, 2015. I apologize for taking my blog down for so long. I felt self-conscious about the raw emotion and honesty about my life's situations. When reading my blog, please realize that I am ok. Most of my posts are very sad; sadness was a resource for me when it came to writing. THIS IS MY BLOG. I claim all found herein and am not ashamed of what I have written about (swear words and all). Thank you for reading my blog and as always:.

kirstenkingme.blogspot.com

Wild&Crazy&Real: jack sparrow

https://kirstenkingme.blogspot.com/2015/07/jack-sparrow.html

View my complete profile. One of my favorite Jack Sparrow lines is in the fourth one, when hes addressed as just Jack Sparrow and hes like 'there should be a Captain in there somewhere'. And ive always loved it haha. Like Jack Captain Sparrow? Or Jack Sparrow Captain? He only said somewhere. I know he meant Captain Jack Sparrow but the idea has always been funny to me. Speaking of Pirates of the Caribbean, ive been in love with Orlando Bloom for as long as i can remember. But then theres Channing Tatum.

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What Happened When Our Lips Locked

What Happened When Our Lips Locked. All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once as soft as water. And that's the tragedy of living." -pleasefindthis. Saturday, July 11, 2015. My street has milk cartons for houses,. Paper-thin walls decomposing with every spoonful of sugar. Last night i heard her bed frame beat against the wall like fists. I notice all of my metaphors have violent undertones and i don't know what that says about me or the influence of the media. But i think about him sometimes.

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Put some info here! Kiss your words onto my softest parts, and we’ll call it poetry. I don’t know where to start. you’ve probably had too much of these words and idk. do you think i should stop writing about you? I chased over your shoulders today, and i’ve woken up with heavy arms. my spine questions the validity of you. So, i’m sorry if this is just another one of those things that i can’t read out loud. And i’m sorry that i’m just a poem too late and the moon is all bent, out of shape. Today, i took a...

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