He clasped my hand as he tried to find the right words. For once, I had no idea what was going on in his brain. Was this not worth it to him? Were his dreams bigger and better than me? Did he want me beside him as he tried to achieve them? His fingers clenched mine tighter, and I became more afraid. But then, in an unexpected twist of fate, he looked in my eyes and asked me to leave this town with him, forever.
She was soft, so soft, as if she had just exited her mother’s womb and was still encased in her old skin, never seen by the world or touched by rays of light. Her body melted into his and he just held her, not doing anything yet, because she was so new and perfect. She was marble, and he was sandpaper, and he could not bring himself to scratch the surface.
Debi
I clasped the watch in my hand, breathing heavily, backing away from the madman in front of me. He wouldn’t have this, no matter how much he wanted it. “Just leave me alone!” I screamed, panic seeping within me once I felt my back hit the wall.
He grinned slowly and his fist connected with my jaw in a split second. I saw stars and I could feel myself sliding down the wall, the gold watch slipping from my grasp just as my world went black.
AJ Kenobi
a device for holding together objects or parts of something. It keeps something together. for example.. like a relationship, it usually has this clas
Lana
a clasp gilded with gold clung to the fair ladies breast. Not so fair as her eyes though, pale pools of grey as they were.
jarlath
As I clasped my phone in my hands, waiting breathlessly for a text that may never come, I wondered why I kept doing this to myself. I kept deluding myself into thinking people cared. But they didn’t, and I just end up with self doubt and a broken heart.
maddie
i hold on to you, my love
clasping, scratching, clenching at
your throat
your wrists
your love.
i’m suffocated by this feeling
that i should never let go
or you’ll slip through my fingers.
mer
An engagement ring is cliché. And so much can go wrong – shape, style, colour; gold, while gold, silver? Also, so very impersonal. But alas, it has to be jewelry, and it has to be thoughtful, and it has to be sentimental, and it has to be romantic. So a necklace is inevitable. Easily personalized as to apply to thoughtfulness and sentimentality, check, the overly done presenting of a jewelry box is achieved, check, and then there is the breath on the neck as she lifts her hair allowing you to clasp it around her slender neck, exposed for a quick kiss. Romantic. Check.
“Can you help me with the clasp?” I walk right over to her and gladly help. Once fastened, she turns to me with an empty expression upon her beautiful, glowing face. You have no idea how marvelous you are. If you did I promise you’d be smiling.
He heard my sobs as he walked through the door and came running into my room, where he found me shaking uncontrollably in the corner. He didn’t know yet, and he would never be able to share the pain I felt in that moment. I was totally devastated, but then he came and kissed my forehead, and clasped my hands in his, and somehow, in the deep waters of my pain, the hurt subsided and I could finally find my breath, despite drowning.
Cara
He gently held the clasp of my necklace between his forefinger and thumb as he stood behind me in front of the mirror. Once the necklace was on, he turned me around and looked quietly at the necklace and then my face.
Ai like to a clasp on to things that are important, ususallayf they crumble and turn to dust when I clasp, sometimes I feel it hints are Whispering bugger off n my ears, but I feel I,n good for everyone, I clasp the love and tender beating hearts of my dautersm their warm soft skins, I care for, and their trusting eyes and tremulous voices
sunitakumar.manda@gmail.com
It was uneven and finding its way down, along her collar bone…the clasp never stayed in the back where it belonged, just over that upper most lump of bone at the base of her neck. Why, she wondered? Always, she slept on her side…
His basic idea was simple, like packing a suitcase with too much in it. Pressing down on different parts until the whole was just the right shape for the clasps to shut. The problem was, you really could not open it again until you got where you were going. But in Killen’s case, he would have to keep adding to it until right before the takeoff.
tonykeyesjapan
Taking the clasp gingerly between her thumb and forefinger, she slid it and the eyelet together with a soundless clink. Letting the delicate chain slip from between her fingers to rest on the exposed skin of her throat, her hands, in turn, fell to her lady’s waist. “Is that all, my lady?” she breathed words like a caress along the side of her mistresses face.
Charlotte smiled, slow and seductive as she turned to face her. “For now,”
I clasped his hand in mine. He looked at me first with confusion, and then recognition. His hazel eyes, beautiful hazel eyes knew how I felt. A wide grin spread across his face, and I knew everything would be wonderful.
Brooke Tuinei
The clasp on her necklace was made of pearls and marcasite. It reminded me of a ring mum used to wear before her fingers swelled up with rheumatoid arthritis.
Trish
A clasp is something that holds two pieces together. The pieces are meant to go together, but need assistance in holding together. The clasp fastens these two separate pieces together in order to be a complete piece. Clasps are most often used on fabric or clothing. A clasp can hold pants together, a shirt, or sometimes a piece of jewelry.
Valerie Cox
her grandmother had a necklace with a clasp so small you could hardly put it together
when she died, she gave it to her daughter, but her daughter didn’t wear jewelry so it lay in the box for years until one day she gave it to her daughter. She didn’t wear jewelry either.
Tom placed the string of pearls around her neck, secured the clasp and kissed her ever so gently. Becky loved Tom and he loved her. Such a wonderful love affair happening in their “later years”. They both considered themselves lucky to have found each other.
i don’t know the meaning of this word though, yet it seems like it means to grab onto something, more like in a hurting manner. So such a word can be only useful to a sadist mind and hence i would not write much about it.
Ishan Sharma
Am i trapped inside my body or locked inside my mind? Trying to keep my grasp on to life while running out of time. Don’t let your self fall from the cliff because your holding on to the past. And stop reaching out for trivial things you know will never last.
Am i trapped inside my body or locked inside my mind. Thinking if giving another chance i’d be ahead of time.They say the present is a gift i say its a blessing. Like sliced bread, neosporin or turkey and dressing.
Am i trapped inside my body or locked inside my mind.The best thing you can do in life is to find your self defined
Reality Speaks
She clasped our hands together for the rest of the night- never letting go or loosening her grip. Even when it was time to go, she didn’t want to separate.
Vivian
The necklace wasn’t me. I never loved it. God, this is probably the third time it’s been out of the box. But is that why the clasp broke? Did the necklace feel its neglect and decide that it won’t be worn? It seems unlikely, admittedly. But I wonder.
One of the primary components was one that kept the watch, so to speak. No one sees anything that they’re not supposed to, so to speak. The Captain of the Guard. Pretty simple to overcome, hidden in the most obvious ways. Not an evil force, just a necessary one. Different for each individual instance, but just as stubborn in every case. “Fight it as the river fights the rock,” said Purity. “This is the only way in which the infinite is unlocked for the nourishment of mortal eyes.”
Jesse B
The clasp on the envelope was rusty and half-broken, the tab twisted and bent many, many times. What could be inside that was so frequently viewed? Something mundane like a todo list or something precious like a long ago letter from a lover?
Robyn McIntyre
My heart is a box, her eyes are the fingers that open the clasp.
Jack Clayton
It was her favorite necklace — Ramon had given it to her years earlier, and she’d worn it in her first wedding — but the clasp had needed repair. When she went to the jewelry store to reclaim it, she was told there had been a robbery, and her necklace was gone. What were the chances of that?
the clasp of the journal was old, silver, tarnished with time and the oily rainbow swirl of color at its edges. There was dust worked into the crevices and insides of the clasp, reminding the holder of its status as a book of elderly, creaking status.
Hannah
Her fingers fumbled. They were so cold sh could hardly move them, mottled purple and red and white. “Can you get it for me?”
He pushed aside the tangle of dark hair that fell across her her neck, one half of the gold chain in each hand.
His fingers brushed the back of her neck and she shivered.
She clasped the locket shut, and clutched it to her heart. It was an old gold plated locket, so old that the gold plate had already given way to the bronze original. But inside was a picture of her greatest love. And as she sat on her deathbed, and took her last breath, she held him to her heart.
BotanBlossom
He reached for the clasp of her bra; His hands trembling. This was it. He looked at her with unfailing love. He would never let her go. He would never let this moment go.
Amanda
I held your hands with mine and I didn’t know what a spark had felt like until that moment. You were warm, with your callused hands, clasping my small, soft hands. I nearly jolted out of my skin, but then I realized it was just electricity in my body, just a feelings of want and need, that I never knew could be expressed through hand holding.
Zaeiia
I found the broken clasp of my aunt’s necklace in the driveway, just before I got into my mom’s minivan and we mentally prepared ourselves for the funeral. It was amazing how it was still here, staring without eyes up into the suburban sky, without being stepped on or run over by heavy, unforgiving tires. It had held together my aunt’s favorite jewelry, and her heart had been broken when it broke. I picked up the fragment of gold, and it felt warm in my hand.
Belinda Roddie
Every lonely wanderer,
has to clasp their own mind, their hidden emotions
in order to not fall into madness;
feelings are going to tear up the drenched skin
and sting the soaked dark pupils:
waves of desperation, melancholia, pain.
So embrace me, please;
hold me tightly;
don’t let me lose myself.
(I don’t want to wander lonely anymore.)
gargouillis
My knuckles turned white as I clasped the arm of the chair even firmer. They wanted to provoke me, wanted a reaction, but i wouldn’t give it to them
Sara
something like a buckle used to tie two parts of a bag,shoes,etc
Hanaa AbdelGhany
I clasp my hands together. With one wing it is stuck between my hands, it is crawling and wriggling to break free.
He clasped my hand as he tried to find the right words. For once, I had no idea what was going on in his brain. Was this not worth it to him? Were his dreams bigger and better than me? Did he want me beside him as he tried to achieve them? His fingers clenched mine tighter, and I became more afraid. But then, in an unexpected twist of fate, he looked in my eyes and asked me to leave this town with him, forever.
She was soft, so soft, as if she had just exited her mother’s womb and was still encased in her old skin, never seen by the world or touched by rays of light. Her body melted into his and he just held her, not doing anything yet, because she was so new and perfect. She was marble, and he was sandpaper, and he could not bring himself to scratch the surface.
I clasped the watch in my hand, breathing heavily, backing away from the madman in front of me. He wouldn’t have this, no matter how much he wanted it. “Just leave me alone!” I screamed, panic seeping within me once I felt my back hit the wall.
He grinned slowly and his fist connected with my jaw in a split second. I saw stars and I could feel myself sliding down the wall, the gold watch slipping from my grasp just as my world went black.
a device for holding together objects or parts of something. It keeps something together. for example.. like a relationship, it usually has this clas
a clasp gilded with gold clung to the fair ladies breast. Not so fair as her eyes though, pale pools of grey as they were.
As I clasped my phone in my hands, waiting breathlessly for a text that may never come, I wondered why I kept doing this to myself. I kept deluding myself into thinking people cared. But they didn’t, and I just end up with self doubt and a broken heart.
i hold on to you, my love
clasping, scratching, clenching at
your throat
your wrists
your love.
i’m suffocated by this feeling
that i should never let go
or you’ll slip through my fingers.
An engagement ring is cliché. And so much can go wrong – shape, style, colour; gold, while gold, silver? Also, so very impersonal. But alas, it has to be jewelry, and it has to be thoughtful, and it has to be sentimental, and it has to be romantic. So a necklace is inevitable. Easily personalized as to apply to thoughtfulness and sentimentality, check, the overly done presenting of a jewelry box is achieved, check, and then there is the breath on the neck as she lifts her hair allowing you to clasp it around her slender neck, exposed for a quick kiss. Romantic. Check.
“Can you help me with the clasp?” I walk right over to her and gladly help. Once fastened, she turns to me with an empty expression upon her beautiful, glowing face. You have no idea how marvelous you are. If you did I promise you’d be smiling.
He heard my sobs as he walked through the door and came running into my room, where he found me shaking uncontrollably in the corner. He didn’t know yet, and he would never be able to share the pain I felt in that moment. I was totally devastated, but then he came and kissed my forehead, and clasped my hands in his, and somehow, in the deep waters of my pain, the hurt subsided and I could finally find my breath, despite drowning.
He gently held the clasp of my necklace between his forefinger and thumb as he stood behind me in front of the mirror. Once the necklace was on, he turned me around and looked quietly at the necklace and then my face.
clasp my hand
together
onwards
to journey in the unknown
discovery
is found
through risk
so clasp my hand
together
with you
my heart stands strong
together
we can soar
through the burdening
worries
of life
Ai like to a clasp on to things that are important, ususallayf they crumble and turn to dust when I clasp, sometimes I feel it hints are Whispering bugger off n my ears, but I feel I,n good for everyone, I clasp the love and tender beating hearts of my dautersm their warm soft skins, I care for, and their trusting eyes and tremulous voices
It was uneven and finding its way down, along her collar bone…the clasp never stayed in the back where it belonged, just over that upper most lump of bone at the base of her neck. Why, she wondered? Always, she slept on her side…
His basic idea was simple, like packing a suitcase with too much in it. Pressing down on different parts until the whole was just the right shape for the clasps to shut. The problem was, you really could not open it again until you got where you were going. But in Killen’s case, he would have to keep adding to it until right before the takeoff.
Taking the clasp gingerly between her thumb and forefinger, she slid it and the eyelet together with a soundless clink. Letting the delicate chain slip from between her fingers to rest on the exposed skin of her throat, her hands, in turn, fell to her lady’s waist. “Is that all, my lady?” she breathed words like a caress along the side of her mistresses face.
Charlotte smiled, slow and seductive as she turned to face her. “For now,”
I clasped his hand in mine. He looked at me first with confusion, and then recognition. His hazel eyes, beautiful hazel eyes knew how I felt. A wide grin spread across his face, and I knew everything would be wonderful.
The clasp on her necklace was made of pearls and marcasite. It reminded me of a ring mum used to wear before her fingers swelled up with rheumatoid arthritis.
A clasp is something that holds two pieces together. The pieces are meant to go together, but need assistance in holding together. The clasp fastens these two separate pieces together in order to be a complete piece. Clasps are most often used on fabric or clothing. A clasp can hold pants together, a shirt, or sometimes a piece of jewelry.
her grandmother had a necklace with a clasp so small you could hardly put it together
when she died, she gave it to her daughter, but her daughter didn’t wear jewelry so it lay in the box for years until one day she gave it to her daughter. She didn’t wear jewelry either.
Tom placed the string of pearls around her neck, secured the clasp and kissed her ever so gently. Becky loved Tom and he loved her. Such a wonderful love affair happening in their “later years”. They both considered themselves lucky to have found each other.
i don’t know the meaning of this word though, yet it seems like it means to grab onto something, more like in a hurting manner. So such a word can be only useful to a sadist mind and hence i would not write much about it.
Am i trapped inside my body or locked inside my mind? Trying to keep my grasp on to life while running out of time. Don’t let your self fall from the cliff because your holding on to the past. And stop reaching out for trivial things you know will never last.
Am i trapped inside my body or locked inside my mind. Thinking if giving another chance i’d be ahead of time.They say the present is a gift i say its a blessing. Like sliced bread, neosporin or turkey and dressing.
Am i trapped inside my body or locked inside my mind.The best thing you can do in life is to find your self defined
She clasped our hands together for the rest of the night- never letting go or loosening her grip. Even when it was time to go, she didn’t want to separate.
The necklace wasn’t me. I never loved it. God, this is probably the third time it’s been out of the box. But is that why the clasp broke? Did the necklace feel its neglect and decide that it won’t be worn? It seems unlikely, admittedly. But I wonder.
One of the primary components was one that kept the watch, so to speak. No one sees anything that they’re not supposed to, so to speak. The Captain of the Guard. Pretty simple to overcome, hidden in the most obvious ways. Not an evil force, just a necessary one. Different for each individual instance, but just as stubborn in every case. “Fight it as the river fights the rock,” said Purity. “This is the only way in which the infinite is unlocked for the nourishment of mortal eyes.”
The clasp on the envelope was rusty and half-broken, the tab twisted and bent many, many times. What could be inside that was so frequently viewed? Something mundane like a todo list or something precious like a long ago letter from a lover?
My heart is a box, her eyes are the fingers that open the clasp.
It was her favorite necklace — Ramon had given it to her years earlier, and she’d worn it in her first wedding — but the clasp had needed repair. When she went to the jewelry store to reclaim it, she was told there had been a robbery, and her necklace was gone. What were the chances of that?
the clasp of the journal was old, silver, tarnished with time and the oily rainbow swirl of color at its edges. There was dust worked into the crevices and insides of the clasp, reminding the holder of its status as a book of elderly, creaking status.
Her fingers fumbled. They were so cold sh could hardly move them, mottled purple and red and white. “Can you get it for me?”
He pushed aside the tangle of dark hair that fell across her her neck, one half of the gold chain in each hand.
His fingers brushed the back of her neck and she shivered.
“Ah, sorry.”
“No, it’s fine–“
She clasped the locket shut, and clutched it to her heart. It was an old gold plated locket, so old that the gold plate had already given way to the bronze original. But inside was a picture of her greatest love. And as she sat on her deathbed, and took her last breath, she held him to her heart.
He reached for the clasp of her bra; His hands trembling. This was it. He looked at her with unfailing love. He would never let her go. He would never let this moment go.
I held your hands with mine and I didn’t know what a spark had felt like until that moment. You were warm, with your callused hands, clasping my small, soft hands. I nearly jolted out of my skin, but then I realized it was just electricity in my body, just a feelings of want and need, that I never knew could be expressed through hand holding.
I found the broken clasp of my aunt’s necklace in the driveway, just before I got into my mom’s minivan and we mentally prepared ourselves for the funeral. It was amazing how it was still here, staring without eyes up into the suburban sky, without being stepped on or run over by heavy, unforgiving tires. It had held together my aunt’s favorite jewelry, and her heart had been broken when it broke. I picked up the fragment of gold, and it felt warm in my hand.
Every lonely wanderer,
has to clasp their own mind, their hidden emotions
in order to not fall into madness;
feelings are going to tear up the drenched skin
and sting the soaked dark pupils:
waves of desperation, melancholia, pain.
So embrace me, please;
hold me tightly;
don’t let me lose myself.
(I don’t want to wander lonely anymore.)
My knuckles turned white as I clasped the arm of the chair even firmer. They wanted to provoke me, wanted a reaction, but i wouldn’t give it to them
something like a buckle used to tie two parts of a bag,shoes,etc
I clasp my hands together. With one wing it is stuck between my hands, it is crawling and wriggling to break free.
hold
tightly
don’t let go too quickly
safe
secure
holding in
boundary
purse
hands
hearts
spirits