You can’t guess what I have,
It is round, and not too hard on the eyes,
It is soft to the touch, and never tells lies,
It is light as a feather, but can weigh a ton
It is one in a million, but a million in one.
Give up?
It is you that I held ….
i held on to nothing more than glittery air in front of a reddened satisfying sky, how unwise the way i faded out this time, came back to a blue kind of sky seen first from the window in the donation bed i tripped out and away while selling my life force, and i’m holding sterile air in my lungs, now, instead.
I held onto the weather worn rope
eating at my red
tired
fingers
I held because
the drop
was much too daunting
much too far
I held as it swung
and swung again
I got held up at the De Lucha last night for $4 and a can of diet coke with lime. I am not sure how I got through the ordeal, but I’ll never stop there after midnight again.
I held his secret in my being, in my presence, and in my soul. I locked it up and took the precautions so it would be completely secure. No one possesses the key, except for us.
captivating captured in the net of productivity you held me in your graces and i held you with my laces until one of us can free you then it’s me who’s winning out no matter how we struggle muddle up our fights impassioned bouts
She held me close, keeping me near her heart. Its was useless, though, as the flashbulb memories illuminated my way into sleepless nights wracked with nightmares. The lullaby of her heartbeat provided consolation for only so long, wearing out before even one night was complete. These memories, I knew, would end me.
held like a mother holds a baby for the first time that feeliong, overhwhilming im not a mother but i imagine it would be amazing. and when the babay crys you dont care becayse its your babay i dont like this at all im making myself cringe LOT
He held me. He held me with the strongest grip possible. He knew if he let go this would be the last chance he had to touch me, kiss me, love me. Time was running out but the essence of his skin touching mine made this horrid moment seem surreal, like it wasn’t happening. This is when i knew that he truly loved me.
I held my breath as the air around me began to twist. I was not aware that I had touched the untouchable object. Everything became a blur as my reality turned into nothing more than fantacy. Anyway the world was dissapearing and I bgun to get a bit dizzy because I was holding on to my breath so long. Is this going to stop? It’s been saying time was up since I started. I can just keep writing. Wow.
Held close to someone makes you feel safe. The one time you don’t feel insecure. Being so close to someone that for once in your life you don’t feel judged, but accepted. Loved.
“Is it love, or is it the idea of being in love?” I’ve always loved that quote. It’s from a Pink Floyd song called Momentary Lapse of Reason. And as I held him in my arms, our bodies warm and loving, I knew then and there: this is the real thing. This is love.
holding things, like babies, but you hold them with more care than a toy, unless you value that toy more than babies. If so, i think you shouldn’t have children. But held is past tense, so you held it, now you let go. You probably don’t like it enough to let it go, or you like it to much and you let go to go learn to control yourself.
He held it close for just another moment before setting it down. The one object he couldn’t get rid of. It reminded him of better days, of life before. Before what? He couldn’t really say, he just knew that it was a different time. Now, he only dreamed that things would go back, but they wouldn’t, and understanding that he let go.
He held the jar in his hand gingerly, afraid of what might be inside. This was more than he could take. The anticipation was kiiling him as he slowly began unscrewing the lid. He was begining to have second thoughts but it was too late now. He had already broken the seal. Soon blue smoke began rising from the jar and started to wrap itself around him.
He continued to hold the jar as he began to disapear.
Both the jar and the man were gone.
i held your hand, aw the hands. I think of the corpses. I hope i spelled that right. Gabee is planning a party and just texted me. I hope it goes through, that way i could hold Roman’s hand maybe. Id be so happy, the happiest girl in the world even. Like a bird in the air, feathers held to together by the hopes of flying. the beach! Lake sixteen, yes! it may work hopefully. im dreaming though. But destiny is never left to chance. Maybe today we could finally hit the beach!
I miss holding you. I miss being held. I want to bury my face in the crook of your neck and breathe you in, and then I will be home. I found that ‘cwtch’ doesn’t just mean cuddle, it means to put something in a safe place. That is how I feel in your arms
I held his hand, hoping for a minute that he would love me again… But as those seconds ticked away, I was left in despair. He took his hand and put it next to his body, leaving my hand holding nothing but air.
He held my leg in his hands after I kicked and thrashed around. My face was red and I held a grin ear to ear. “Come on,” he said, “therapy can’t be that bad.”
“You have no idea”. I responded back, “I hate it there and I don’t ever want to that again.”
He held his stare for so long. I think he finally feels the exact way I’ve felt for a very long time now. Before, he would ask, “what?”, when I held eye contact with him, staring down the one and only thing I would surely die without. And now he simply stares back, at I, who, I hope, am the one and only thing he would surely die without.
Don’t hold me, she said. I might disappear. Don’t touch me, I might not be there. I am insubstantial, nothing left but soul and mind.
He said, I love you anyway. All the important parts of you are here, with me.
She said, I am only a ghost. You need to move on.
He said, I’ll be a ghost too. We’ll die together.
And she said, yes.
He held his stare for so long, I think he finally feels the exact way I’ve felt for a very long time now. Before he’d ask “what?” when I held eye contact with him, staring down the one and only thing I would surely die without. And now he simply stares back, at I, who I hope, am the only and only thing he would surely die without.
The pencil, held in my hand, was like a declaration of truth. I could write, and read. In this world, only those things matter, and only that will save me from myself, from the endless cavalcade of television advertisements, from the barrage of consumerism, from my own insecurities. To write is to be alive.
I held my breath as long as I could and I still was not able to win the race. I tried so hard to win. I was against professional breath holders i guess. It seems that the world is full of breath holders. I wonder why? I am not a breath holder.
I don’t remember the last time you held me safe and close and fearless. No. All I remember, now, is tears and regret and wishing I knew you. And wishing that you’d reach out and make me believe in you.
He wanted to hold her tonight. But it did not feel right. The wind and the rain made everything lessen somehow and her smile was not as bright. He felt like letting her go in that instant, but he resisted. He held fast. Why should he just give up on her.
I’ve been held by many men under heavy midwestern landscapes. I’ve help them back in my feeble arms because I didn’t know what else to do. I wanted to get up and leave them behind, foot following foot after their eyes have closed with a pleased cock and tired testicles. I loved them with the inside of my thighs but the innards of my rib cage remained tough and unwilling. I forced myself to stay within their 10 hour grasp, within their messy beds and lopsided smiles. I forced myself to be kind to creatures I held no emotion for. And for what? To make them feel something I could never feel, to make someone else smile a whole smile for a minute because like an eagle needing rescue, like a dog needing a pat, I was incapacitated by years of unrequited love. Older now and even less caring, even rougher than before, I don’t bother staying. My wet flower of life hidden between my bow legs and child baring hips wants only to be pleased, not my strawberry ice cream heart, not my untrusting brain, burnt out on fairy tale endings and fake “I do’s”.
She held his hand tight. It was a bright afternoon and she wanted to hold onto the moments that slowly passes. She held on to the sound of his breathing and the way his lips moved in a silent pattern.
Could you hold me like you held that night, one year ago? Could you run your fingers through my hair, make me laugh, say I am beautiful, tell me you trusted me? I miss you.
I can remember when I held you when you were crying. All I could think about was how your hair smelt that day. It smelled like soft white sheets on a cold and rainy morning. So comforting. Even though you were sad, all I could think about was how happy I was that you were in my arms.
You can’t guess what I hold,
It is round, and not too hard on the eyes,
It is soft to the touch, and never tells lies,
It is light as a feather, but can weigh a ton
It is one in a million, but a million in one.
Give up?
It’s your heart, I held ….
I held her. my grand daughter. I held her and thought of the wonder that my baby has a baby. tears ran down my cheeks as I held her. I held her close. she held me close. she holds me in her hart. I am hers forever. I held her close. I held her.
You can’t guess what I have,
It is round, and not too hard on the eyes,
It is soft to the touch, and never tells lies,
It is light as a feather, but can weigh a ton
It is one in a million, but a million in one.
Give up?
It is you that I held ….
i held on to nothing more than glittery air in front of a reddened satisfying sky, how unwise the way i faded out this time, came back to a blue kind of sky seen first from the window in the donation bed i tripped out and away while selling my life force, and i’m holding sterile air in my lungs, now, instead.
I held onto the weather worn rope
eating at my red
tired
fingers
I held because
the drop
was much too daunting
much too far
I held as it swung
and swung again
He held my hand -not for long, though- ‘You’re freezing!’ he said.
I hold onto my dreams, but sometimes they slip a bit
I hold onto my friendships, they mean more than materialistic value
I hold in my arms my stuffed bear once a night
I hold in my head morals and knowledge
And I once held in my heart you
but you’re gone now
and no longer can I hold onto you
letting go
nevertheless
is much harder then it seems
I got held up at the De Lucha last night for $4 and a can of diet coke with lime. I am not sure how I got through the ordeal, but I’ll never stop there after midnight again.
I held his secret in my being, in my presence, and in my soul. I locked it up and took the precautions so it would be completely secure. No one possesses the key, except for us.
captivating captured in the net of productivity you held me in your graces and i held you with my laces until one of us can free you then it’s me who’s winning out no matter how we struggle muddle up our fights impassioned bouts
She held me close, keeping me near her heart. Its was useless, though, as the flashbulb memories illuminated my way into sleepless nights wracked with nightmares. The lullaby of her heartbeat provided consolation for only so long, wearing out before even one night was complete. These memories, I knew, would end me.
held like a mother holds a baby for the first time that feeliong, overhwhilming im not a mother but i imagine it would be amazing. and when the babay crys you dont care becayse its your babay i dont like this at all im making myself cringe LOT
He held me. He held me with the strongest grip possible. He knew if he let go this would be the last chance he had to touch me, kiss me, love me. Time was running out but the essence of his skin touching mine made this horrid moment seem surreal, like it wasn’t happening. This is when i knew that he truly loved me.
I held my breath as the air around me began to twist. I was not aware that I had touched the untouchable object. Everything became a blur as my reality turned into nothing more than fantacy. Anyway the world was dissapearing and I bgun to get a bit dizzy because I was holding on to my breath so long. Is this going to stop? It’s been saying time was up since I started. I can just keep writing. Wow.
Held close to someone makes you feel safe. The one time you don’t feel insecure. Being so close to someone that for once in your life you don’t feel judged, but accepted. Loved.
I held in my hand the girl about now.
the sight sawn off the handle of now
holding picturesque to empty, forgotten, dawns.
What, the fuck, did i do wrong.
“Is it love, or is it the idea of being in love?” I’ve always loved that quote. It’s from a Pink Floyd song called Momentary Lapse of Reason. And as I held him in my arms, our bodies warm and loving, I knew then and there: this is the real thing. This is love.
held down locked down in a cage ima beast and theres no one better than me than i myself surpassed with what i am capable of and it scares me
holding things, like babies, but you hold them with more care than a toy, unless you value that toy more than babies. If so, i think you shouldn’t have children. But held is past tense, so you held it, now you let go. You probably don’t like it enough to let it go, or you like it to much and you let go to go learn to control yourself.
He held it close for just another moment before setting it down. The one object he couldn’t get rid of. It reminded him of better days, of life before. Before what? He couldn’t really say, he just knew that it was a different time. Now, he only dreamed that things would go back, but they wouldn’t, and understanding that he let go.
He held the jar in his hand gingerly, afraid of what might be inside. This was more than he could take. The anticipation was kiiling him as he slowly began unscrewing the lid. He was begining to have second thoughts but it was too late now. He had already broken the seal. Soon blue smoke began rising from the jar and started to wrap itself around him.
He continued to hold the jar as he began to disapear.
Both the jar and the man were gone.
i held your hand, aw the hands. I think of the corpses. I hope i spelled that right. Gabee is planning a party and just texted me. I hope it goes through, that way i could hold Roman’s hand maybe. Id be so happy, the happiest girl in the world even. Like a bird in the air, feathers held to together by the hopes of flying. the beach! Lake sixteen, yes! it may work hopefully. im dreaming though. But destiny is never left to chance. Maybe today we could finally hit the beach!
I miss holding you. I miss being held. I want to bury my face in the crook of your neck and breathe you in, and then I will be home. I found that ‘cwtch’ doesn’t just mean cuddle, it means to put something in a safe place. That is how I feel in your arms
I held his hand, hoping for a minute that he would love me again… But as those seconds ticked away, I was left in despair. He took his hand and put it next to his body, leaving my hand holding nothing but air.
He held my leg in his hands after I kicked and thrashed around. My face was red and I held a grin ear to ear. “Come on,” he said, “therapy can’t be that bad.”
“You have no idea”. I responded back, “I hate it there and I don’t ever want to that again.”
He held his stare for so long. I think he finally feels the exact way I’ve felt for a very long time now. Before, he would ask, “what?”, when I held eye contact with him, staring down the one and only thing I would surely die without. And now he simply stares back, at I, who, I hope, am the one and only thing he would surely die without.
Don’t hold me, she said. I might disappear. Don’t touch me, I might not be there. I am insubstantial, nothing left but soul and mind.
He said, I love you anyway. All the important parts of you are here, with me.
She said, I am only a ghost. You need to move on.
He said, I’ll be a ghost too. We’ll die together.
And she said, yes.
He held his stare for so long, I think he finally feels the exact way I’ve felt for a very long time now. Before he’d ask “what?” when I held eye contact with him, staring down the one and only thing I would surely die without. And now he simply stares back, at I, who I hope, am the only and only thing he would surely die without.
The pencil, held in my hand, was like a declaration of truth. I could write, and read. In this world, only those things matter, and only that will save me from myself, from the endless cavalcade of television advertisements, from the barrage of consumerism, from my own insecurities. To write is to be alive.
I held my breath as long as I could and I still was not able to win the race. I tried so hard to win. I was against professional breath holders i guess. It seems that the world is full of breath holders. I wonder why? I am not a breath holder.
If it weren’t for the moments that she held the soft boiled egg in her hands, she was confident she would have gone crazy.
It comforted her, for some reason, to know she could squeezed and the yolk would burst through her fingers.
She wouldn’t dare, try it though. Never.
He held her hand harshly, lovingly. He wanted her, he wanted her, he wanted her. She struggled, briefly, and acquiesced, continuously.
I got held up in traffic once and I fell asleep. When I woke up I was back at home, with no memory of going to sleep or the drive home.
I don’t remember the last time you held me safe and close and fearless. No. All I remember, now, is tears and regret and wishing I knew you. And wishing that you’d reach out and make me believe in you.
hold
hands
bear
soup
crackers
me
you
on
dropped
meld
felt
sleeping bag
shoes
each other
hold
mold
cold
hott
He wanted to hold her tonight. But it did not feel right. The wind and the rain made everything lessen somehow and her smile was not as bright. He felt like letting her go in that instant, but he resisted. He held fast. Why should he just give up on her.
I’ve been held by many men under heavy midwestern landscapes. I’ve help them back in my feeble arms because I didn’t know what else to do. I wanted to get up and leave them behind, foot following foot after their eyes have closed with a pleased cock and tired testicles. I loved them with the inside of my thighs but the innards of my rib cage remained tough and unwilling. I forced myself to stay within their 10 hour grasp, within their messy beds and lopsided smiles. I forced myself to be kind to creatures I held no emotion for. And for what? To make them feel something I could never feel, to make someone else smile a whole smile for a minute because like an eagle needing rescue, like a dog needing a pat, I was incapacitated by years of unrequited love. Older now and even less caring, even rougher than before, I don’t bother staying. My wet flower of life hidden between my bow legs and child baring hips wants only to be pleased, not my strawberry ice cream heart, not my untrusting brain, burnt out on fairy tale endings and fake “I do’s”.
She held his hand tight. It was a bright afternoon and she wanted to hold onto the moments that slowly passes. She held on to the sound of his breathing and the way his lips moved in a silent pattern.
Could you hold me like you held that night, one year ago? Could you run your fingers through my hair, make me laugh, say I am beautiful, tell me you trusted me? I miss you.
I can remember when I held you when you were crying. All I could think about was how your hair smelt that day. It smelled like soft white sheets on a cold and rainy morning. So comforting. Even though you were sad, all I could think about was how happy I was that you were in my arms.
You can’t guess what I hold,
It is round, and not too hard on the eyes,
It is soft to the touch, and never tells lies,
It is light as a feather, but can weigh a ton
It is one in a million, but a million in one.
Give up?
It’s your heart, I held ….
I held her. my grand daughter. I held her and thought of the wonder that my baby has a baby. tears ran down my cheeks as I held her. I held her close. she held me close. she holds me in her hart. I am hers forever. I held her close. I held her.