My heart is locked up. .I am shutting out the world. I used to trust everyone, wanted to please everyone, wanted to give every single bit of myself to every other being other than myself. Not anymore. I am living for me. I have to pull myself out of this hole and the only way to do it is by my own bootstraps.
Lock and key. Key and lock. How many times do I lock myself up? I’m always misunderstood by a lot of people and I wish I can show them that I’m not what I seem. Is it difficult to show my true self? Is it difficult to just be myself? I just wish people can see the real me and not have to use a key to unlock.
I need a lock for my bedroom door, and maybe even one for my bathroom door. I need a lock so I can have some privacy, and feel safe to be alone in my own room when I feel like it. I want to be alone sometimes, this is not easy with three children.
Lock.
I feel locked in this cage. This cell. Unable to come out and actually face every single problem. My feelings? All locked in this stupid cage. I’ve never actually let out any feelings. Maybe some insights. But never any real feelings. I’m such an emotional wreck…
Lock: Keeping the rest of the world away from something deep to you. Possibly keeping you away from it too. Only for some time though, because as we all know it eventually comes back. Yes, it comes back everytime.
You have the key to the lock that’s on my heart. The seal was never broken until you came along and set my love free. I want to hold you in my arms and keep you safe, and lock you in them like you are the safe. I don’t want anyone else to have you.
dont lock your heart away. be open to everyone, because you never know who will actually belong in your heart unless you let them in. a lock just keeps everyone out, and its not any way to love.
I want to lock you out of my life. Enclose myself with locks ad never give you the key soyou cant come inside and hurt me. I want to lock myself away from the world. Enclose myself in the peace and quiet of myself. But locks are always penetrable and I know tha either Ill get in or you will.
There was some part of me that was locked in a state of utter confusion. Even writing couldn’t help me out of my dilemma; I was horribly lost. I had always turned to my pen for closure and coping. But it wasn’t helping, and sleepless nights were spent staring up at the stars convincing myself I wasn’t the only one. It only seemed to make me sleepy enough to get through the night only to wake up to another dose of bewilderment and loneliness.
I’ve had this terribly nasty since I was about six; I always lock a door behind me.
Even if I’m the only one in my house, and I’m going into my bedroom for thirty seconds to grab my bag that I left across the room, I will without a doubt shut the door behind me, making sure it’s locked.
I’m not scared, so I can’t figure it out.
Our brains are locked. Our secrets are locked. When I think about brains, all I can think of are the the vast amounts of locks bracing our secrets from others. Where these thoughts come from though, is unknown to me.
When I think of a lock I don’t think of a key. It’s been snapped in half and thrown over your shoulder to ensure your forever silence. People never specify what kind of lock it is on your mouth, though. Is it a padlock? Mine is. It’s bright blue with silvery orange stars that shine like titanium.
Locks are good protection for a person. they can keep your house free from robbers and your locker at school from yourself being shoved in it. without locks we wouldn’t be very far today, especially since we’d either be in a locker or our stuff would all be stolen……
This lock is forever. This what I am. Locked in my body, forever. I need to get out. Break the cycle, break open the lock. Leave this shattered remain. Spread my wings to the sun. This is what I am.
It was locked. They, the adults had put up the fence and locked the gate. That gate was the only way into the orchard we children loved and felt at home in. We could see it through the chain link fence. We could smell the ripe apricots. But we could not reach it. With the locking of that gate, we were forever barred from a part of our childhood. Slowly, we were being weaned from from our imaginations and forced to face rough, chain-link reality for the first time.
Moral of the story: Locked gates suck. Reality sucks.
when you lock something up, you always know its secure. it eases your mind, and helps you move on with your life. if its a person you may feel safer, if its money you may feel happy you are saving it.
We walk out of the hospital room and at that moment our whole lives become categorized and compartmentalization. Here are the things we talk about to people we don’t really know. Here are the things we say to people we want to impress. Here, behind a vault with one huge lock, here we keep our secrets, the one’s which no one is supposed to know.
The sun was just starting to peek through the branches of the tree above her. Warm. Bright. What a wonderful day. It let her leave the idea of the lock on the door far behind in her mind. To nice of a day to close things outside.
the lock was heavy, rusty and old. she jiggled it and it fell apart. she opened the heavy wooden door and saw inside nothing but darkness. she wandered in and held her breath, touching the walls as she went. she felt the rough bricks and felt suddenly..flesh. warm. and soft.
Darn, I wish I had bought a lock for the past a long time ago. Maybe a new name, or a new place would’ve done well. Sigh, I can’t do anything now. Mary-Ann’s look on her face tells me she knows everything. So does everyone else in this stupid room.
She’s afraid, very afraid. She doesn’t like everyone around her, they have masks on their faces, they’re all fakes. All she wanted to do is to lock herself up in her tiny, cozy room, where she can hide from reality, and continue living in her small little fantasy world.
The easiest way to figure out if you an love someone for the rest of your life is to lock yourself in a room with them for a day. If you leave stressed and angry, don’t bother. If you leave reminiscing about the past 24 hours, you’ve found him.
You’ve got something to hide? Then make sure no one finds it. Anyone can know what I think I say. As long as it’s in riddled thought which none can decipher, but I.
At first, my family wouldn’t let me put a lock on my door. Then my brother started getting angrier and angrier as time went on and in order to continue turning a blind eye to the situation, they had to provide me with some way to keep it secret. So they gave me the lock. The lock helped, until his anger got to the point where he discovered how to take the lock off. I love him, but he needs to be happier and not take out his anger on me. Not that way, at least.
i’m so tired of locks without keys and famously i get so distracted. life is grand when it has meaning and sometimes i buy into the lie, that terribly tempting lie that everything will be okay if i have a job where i’m not trapped. and then i feel guilty because even though my talents aren’t recognized (me, me me!) what does that matter? people are actually physically dying of hunger, and all that’s dying on me is my pride. it’s a mess to think about broadly, because i want to be justified so badly in feeling what i do.
i lock those thoughts deep inside my ever-encrypted mind
how dare they attempt to escape
through my fingers
and visible to my delicate, vulnerable eyes
how dare they attempt to become more
than just abstract metaphors
how dare i attempt to truly understand my mind
no, that is not an option
instead,
they must stay locked up
regardless, society is not ready for them.
I tried once, twice. Jiggled it over and over. It was no use. I was stuck. The air started to feel sticky. A giant knot welled in my throat. The darkness began to pulse. It moved closer and closer, and pretty soon, the light was gone.
locked inside this office
this place
this space
trapped inside the mayhem
of
a ringing telephone, restless workers groan
locked
inside this place, this space
but my mind is free
it isn’t locked
like the rest of me.
I don’t know about locks. They’re suppose to keep people out, but they are broken into some many times. If we’re able to break into so easily, why call something locked?
The way that people are hidden behind themselves just so that they don’t have to realize that they are trapped behind fear. The way things can just be constrained and detained and always remain. it’s unbelievable how you have a choice to do something so drastic to yourself, or to the world. How much information you hide or lack due this locking up of secrets.
They ran over to the car, bullets zipping by at distances too close for comfort, and pulled the handles.
The car was locked.
“Why did you lock the car?” Boye shouted.
“In case someone tried to steal our car.”
“What!?”
My heart is locked up. .I am shutting out the world. I used to trust everyone, wanted to please everyone, wanted to give every single bit of myself to every other being other than myself. Not anymore. I am living for me. I have to pull myself out of this hole and the only way to do it is by my own bootstraps.
Lock and key. Key and lock. How many times do I lock myself up? I’m always misunderstood by a lot of people and I wish I can show them that I’m not what I seem. Is it difficult to show my true self? Is it difficult to just be myself? I just wish people can see the real me and not have to use a key to unlock.
I need a lock for my bedroom door, and maybe even one for my bathroom door. I need a lock so I can have some privacy, and feel safe to be alone in my own room when I feel like it. I want to be alone sometimes, this is not easy with three children.
Lock.
I feel locked in this cage. This cell. Unable to come out and actually face every single problem. My feelings? All locked in this stupid cage. I’ve never actually let out any feelings. Maybe some insights. But never any real feelings. I’m such an emotional wreck…
the door, or maybe lock the dresser because your favorite picture or diary of a kid is in there or lock the closet because you jst pushed you
If you want to find the key to my heart, first you need to find the lock within my soul.
Lock: Keeping the rest of the world away from something deep to you. Possibly keeping you away from it too. Only for some time though, because as we all know it eventually comes back. Yes, it comes back everytime.
You have the key to the lock that’s on my heart. The seal was never broken until you came along and set my love free. I want to hold you in my arms and keep you safe, and lock you in them like you are the safe. I don’t want anyone else to have you.
dont lock your heart away. be open to everyone, because you never know who will actually belong in your heart unless you let them in. a lock just keeps everyone out, and its not any way to love.
I want to lock you out of my life. Enclose myself with locks ad never give you the key soyou cant come inside and hurt me. I want to lock myself away from the world. Enclose myself in the peace and quiet of myself. But locks are always penetrable and I know tha either Ill get in or you will.
There was some part of me that was locked in a state of utter confusion. Even writing couldn’t help me out of my dilemma; I was horribly lost. I had always turned to my pen for closure and coping. But it wasn’t helping, and sleepless nights were spent staring up at the stars convincing myself I wasn’t the only one. It only seemed to make me sleepy enough to get through the night only to wake up to another dose of bewilderment and loneliness.
I’ve had this terribly nasty since I was about six; I always lock a door behind me.
Even if I’m the only one in my house, and I’m going into my bedroom for thirty seconds to grab my bag that I left across the room, I will without a doubt shut the door behind me, making sure it’s locked.
I’m not scared, so I can’t figure it out.
Our brains are locked. Our secrets are locked. When I think about brains, all I can think of are the the vast amounts of locks bracing our secrets from others. Where these thoughts come from though, is unknown to me.
When I think of a lock I don’t think of a key. It’s been snapped in half and thrown over your shoulder to ensure your forever silence. People never specify what kind of lock it is on your mouth, though. Is it a padlock? Mine is. It’s bright blue with silvery orange stars that shine like titanium.
Lock rhymes with dock, rhymes with mock and stock and flock of rocks.
Locks are good protection for a person. they can keep your house free from robbers and your locker at school from yourself being shoved in it. without locks we wouldn’t be very far today, especially since we’d either be in a locker or our stuff would all be stolen……
This lock is forever. This what I am. Locked in my body, forever. I need to get out. Break the cycle, break open the lock. Leave this shattered remain. Spread my wings to the sun. This is what I am.
It was locked. They, the adults had put up the fence and locked the gate. That gate was the only way into the orchard we children loved and felt at home in. We could see it through the chain link fence. We could smell the ripe apricots. But we could not reach it. With the locking of that gate, we were forever barred from a part of our childhood. Slowly, we were being weaned from from our imaginations and forced to face rough, chain-link reality for the first time.
Moral of the story: Locked gates suck. Reality sucks.
emotions. it’s what i lock up. i try to make my feelings not a huge deal. if i’m feeling sad or down, i try to hide it. i don’t want others to worry.
when you lock something up, you always know its secure. it eases your mind, and helps you move on with your life. if its a person you may feel safer, if its money you may feel happy you are saving it.
We walk out of the hospital room and at that moment our whole lives become categorized and compartmentalization. Here are the things we talk about to people we don’t really know. Here are the things we say to people we want to impress. Here, behind a vault with one huge lock, here we keep our secrets, the one’s which no one is supposed to know.
The sun was just starting to peek through the branches of the tree above her. Warm. Bright. What a wonderful day. It let her leave the idea of the lock on the door far behind in her mind. To nice of a day to close things outside.
It keeps people out. It’s a barrier. It hides things away. It keeps them trapped, until someone comes along with a key or a crowbar.
Lock the boat, don’t lock the boat baby! Lock the boat, don’t tip the boat over. Lock your doooooors and hide yo’ kids, hide yo’ wives.
Lock, to keep out? Or to keep in? What are you locking? A room? A box? Something you cant see or hear? Why would you want to lock it? Is it dangerous?
the lock was heavy, rusty and old. she jiggled it and it fell apart. she opened the heavy wooden door and saw inside nothing but darkness. she wandered in and held her breath, touching the walls as she went. she felt the rough bricks and felt suddenly..flesh. warm. and soft.
Darn, I wish I had bought a lock for the past a long time ago. Maybe a new name, or a new place would’ve done well. Sigh, I can’t do anything now. Mary-Ann’s look on her face tells me she knows everything. So does everyone else in this stupid room.
She’s afraid, very afraid. She doesn’t like everyone around her, they have masks on their faces, they’re all fakes. All she wanted to do is to lock herself up in her tiny, cozy room, where she can hide from reality, and continue living in her small little fantasy world.
The easiest way to figure out if you an love someone for the rest of your life is to lock yourself in a room with them for a day. If you leave stressed and angry, don’t bother. If you leave reminiscing about the past 24 hours, you’ve found him.
it is a safety gimmic
it wastes no time
it stays in place
all the time
the lock.
You’ve got something to hide? Then make sure no one finds it. Anyone can know what I think I say. As long as it’s in riddled thought which none can decipher, but I.
At first, my family wouldn’t let me put a lock on my door. Then my brother started getting angrier and angrier as time went on and in order to continue turning a blind eye to the situation, they had to provide me with some way to keep it secret. So they gave me the lock. The lock helped, until his anger got to the point where he discovered how to take the lock off. I love him, but he needs to be happier and not take out his anger on me. Not that way, at least.
i’m so tired of locks without keys and famously i get so distracted. life is grand when it has meaning and sometimes i buy into the lie, that terribly tempting lie that everything will be okay if i have a job where i’m not trapped. and then i feel guilty because even though my talents aren’t recognized (me, me me!) what does that matter? people are actually physically dying of hunger, and all that’s dying on me is my pride. it’s a mess to think about broadly, because i want to be justified so badly in feeling what i do.
this morning you made me lock all of the hurt in the dishwasher
nest in the forks and spoons
i lock those thoughts deep inside my ever-encrypted mind
how dare they attempt to escape
through my fingers
and visible to my delicate, vulnerable eyes
how dare they attempt to become more
than just abstract metaphors
how dare i attempt to truly understand my mind
no, that is not an option
instead,
they must stay locked up
regardless, society is not ready for them.
I tried once, twice. Jiggled it over and over. It was no use. I was stuck. The air started to feel sticky. A giant knot welled in my throat. The darkness began to pulse. It moved closer and closer, and pretty soon, the light was gone.
locked inside this office
this place
this space
trapped inside the mayhem
of
a ringing telephone, restless workers groan
locked
inside this place, this space
but my mind is free
it isn’t locked
like the rest of me.
I don’t know about locks. They’re suppose to keep people out, but they are broken into some many times. If we’re able to break into so easily, why call something locked?
The way that people are hidden behind themselves just so that they don’t have to realize that they are trapped behind fear. The way things can just be constrained and detained and always remain. it’s unbelievable how you have a choice to do something so drastic to yourself, or to the world. How much information you hide or lack due this locking up of secrets.