I couldn’t find shelter anywhere I looked.
I fought and contrived my way home
but didn’t make it
So I cryed
but no one would know
my tears were masked by the rain.
vince
He was strong, like a soldier riding a horse. He was the kind of boy who would protect me from all harm, as he swore he would shelter me. The sort of innocence he imagined me to have was crazy, but I let him live off the image of me being his sweet doll.
Give me shelter for my pains. My childhood awaits. My life needs that. Come and give it to me, sweet heart. Don’t leave me alone, as always.
Narwen
Shelter
My favorite shelter? The arms of the man who loves me, cares for me, protects me. With a roof of our own over our head or not, we are home when together.
CameoRoze
i seek for shelter in your arms. it isn’t a good moment to find out that you are a coward. you need shelter yourself. you can’t stand to help someone else in need. you feel that your own need is more important. the person who sheltered you every single time…is about to shelter you again. because that is what a good friend does. i sacrifice everything, and you sacrifice your pride.
lillian
They took shelter from the rain in a small cafe.
“it hardly ever rains here and then the moment you get here it starts pouring!”
His sister was joking an he knew it but to anyone else she would have sounded completely serious,”but I thought you liked the rain?” he replied jokingingly. “not when I’m in it I don’t!” She laughed.
If only there was such a thing as shelter from this cold world, solace from this cruel world and it’s harsh people. Everything is so real it’s unrealistic, perhaps I should be less ‘real’ and sink into delusion, maybe it’s the only shelter left. Idiocy, stupidity, blindness. The only comfort left. I truely envy those who are blind and don’t have to see this crazed, messed up, blood stained world we live in.
Silently and stealthily, charles creeped into the bay center animal shelter, gun in hand. The only lights in the building were the lit displays of fish tanks and various educational descriptions. He walked toward the security door where he knew they would be waiting for him. This was not a surprise attack mission. He took a deep breath as he practiced each morning during his meditation and sun salutations and kicked down the door. Three shots were fired.
Silently and stealthily, charles creeped into the bay center, gun in hard. The only lights in the building were the lit displays of fish tanks and various educational descriptions. He walked toward the security door where he knew they would be waiting for him. This was not a surprise attack mission. He took a deep breath as he practiced each morning during his meditation and sun salutations and kicked down the door. Three shots were fired.
Running, it was as if my legs were on fire. Flaming with both speed and pain. I had one thing in sight and one thing only. The tall roof and strong building. It came rushing towards me. Shelter. I was safe.
Then the rain started to fall.
Gimme Shelter. That was her favorite Rolling Stones song. He remembered her singing it in the shower that first night, when it was hot and humid outside and the windows fogged up. He wanted to go back in time, back to that night when she was singing, climb in the shower with her and
Fake Name
i suppose i could have called you my shelter, once.
your heart (could have, should have, would have been) my castle.
and your arms kept me together, held me down (bruising touch, fingerprints for days.)
i suppose i could have called you my shelter, once.
Your arms
Hot chocolate
Nutella
Cookies fresh out of the oven
Cinnamon rolls
We were building something
Something like family
Something like home
Something like a sanctuary
Let me go back there
Soon
One of my favorite things to do when I was a kid was volunteer at the homeless shelter in Charleston. We’d make then pasta and chili and all sorts of stuff and we did it as a family. It made me really realize how awesome my family is and how fortunate we are.
stephanie
I needed somewhere to go. I ran off to Greenville, though it was originally the last place that I’d ever want to find myself. I thought I’d feel safe here…but the bones turning up, her leaving, no job and no money…I felt anything but safe. I needed to find a way out, a way back. If I were to leave though, everyone would call me a failure. And who knows…maybe I am a failure. At least, that’s how I was beginning to feel these days. I just missed home, I guess.
Sara Lane
The tiny mouse darted through the city streets and over rocky cobblestones, as raindrops smacked against his head and the city noise pounded on his ears. His tiny wicks of amber fur pressed against his confused black dots of eyes, and suddenly there was nothing but the vivace pounding of his heart in his chest. Thumps like raindrops, all the raindrops and heartbeats and raindrops, beat like drums on his ears. Everything was thunder, and there was nothing but the greatness of it, the monstrosity of sound and light and violence that was the world. And then, only darkness. Nothing but the warm embrace of silence. Then, a soft hand fell away from his eyes, was now a halo above him, and he found himself immersed in shelter.
It was a particularly windy April day when you found her huddled in the bus shelter, waiting. To you, she had always been the obnoxious girl next door, a few years too young to ever be of any interest. But today, as exemplified by the freak weather, was an exception. She did not give you her customary gap-toothed grin as you silently sat next to her. With a steely sort of pride that seemed missplaced on the face of an eight year-old, she held out her handful of assorted change and a few crumpled bills.
“I’m running away for good this time.”
You finally noticed the pink backpack cradled on her lap, bulging with her precious posessions.
“Why?” was all you were able to say.
In reply, she gave you perhaps the most jaded smile you would ever see in your life. The bus wheezed to a stop in front of where the two of you sat, and all you could do was stare at her thin, wobbly child’s legs as she mounted the steps and finally moved out of your sight.
and so worries no longer haunt me,
the world has lost its grip on me,
i can walk on the glass
and it seldom cuts my feet,
i look forward to painting the skies,
when i lay down to die,
you are my shelter;
my assurance in life.
Shelter. You were shelter when rain was pouring. And now i’m unsure of life before you, it is but a blur. And I wonder if it is healthy to be so intertwined and blended with you. But whether it is or it isn’t, you are my shelter.
shelter.
She ran and ran, but wasn’t sure where she was going. Her hair flug behind her and her breath escaping in painful gasps. She didn’t dare look back for she wasn’t sure what she would see. She was afraid to see. She tripped, too afraid even to make a startled sound, but kept herself upright and continued to run. She needed a shelter and quickly.
Rebecca
I find peace in chaos. Shelter. When the sun vibrates the blue of the sky, where others find tranquility, I take refuge in the violence of the sky’s shimmering. When the moon fully purifies the souls of men reflecting the light of our provider, I see a thousand nuclear storms tearing through my eyes to collide with my mind.
A house a shelter but for me little more. Parents hate me. Want me gone. Shelter but nothing more. Simply a house but surly not a home.
Sam
it began to rain so Jake ran to find a shelter.
ben
She sat underneath the bus stop waiting and waiting. But no one ever came. Sheltered from the rain with her heart under lock and key.
MLIA
His arms wrapped around her, sheltering her from every danger, every doubt, every misgiving. With him she was safe from anything and everything anyone could do to her.
“Gwen?” he asked, pushing a tendril of her silver-blonde hair behind her ears.
“Yes, love?”
“You know you’re safe with me, right? Always?”
She smiled then, her head resting where it fit perfectly in the hollow of his throat.
His arms wrapped around her, sheltering her from everything. The rain that beat down around them seemed to disappear, as if there were a small circle of ceiling directly above them, blocking out the water. He was safety, shelter, love; with him around her, nothing could go wrong.
Erin
Sherlock snuck into the shelter, bundled up in a borrowed jacket as he infiltrated the homeless crowd, searching for a new recruit. In rushed whispers and passed notes (monetary and otherwise), he silently and secretly combed the room of dirty veterans and women down on their luck. His target was near, he was sure of it. His network had informed him of the newcomer, just in from out of town. Sherlock was eager to see if he could get any information on the carnival in Surrey from someone who would be more able to view it from an insider’s view.
Finally, Sherlock came upon the dirty young carnie, and after a few moments of interrogation and bribery, was rewarded with a confirmation of his suspicions. He wormed his way back out of the crowd and covertly tugged John out of the soup line, where he had been patiently waiting with a hidden smile of amusement. It really was genius, he knew, making use of this cheap source of information. He followed along behind Sherlock and shed his smelly coat outside the door, eager to be back in their safe apartment.
I took shelter, using the lee of the tree in the storm. I walked until blahahahaha
farrell
Sometimes I feel vulnerable when I’m alone.
I keep my friends with me because they make me brave,
they give me courage, and they are my shelter.
I don’t know what I’m going to do now.
Zoë
gimme shelter
i take shelter for granted. I have always had a place to live. I lived for 19 years at the parents’ while growing up. Later I lived in a variety of places through college and beyond. For the last 27 years I have lived in one place – an old house with character and flaws but I like it.
J O'Neill
It offers a false shelter
But a shelter all the same
A shitty one at that
But I’d rather have a real shelter
A kind one
Kidd
Providing shelter to those in need. We all seek shelter from the storms in our life. Who helps provide it tells us who is worthy of our love and friendships!
a place of calm in the storm, a place you can lean into to take refuge, take a breather, let it all go and feel safe and protected.
Rachael
i take shelter in the invisible. i mean, in reading and writing. i really feel these deeds are places. when there is no physical shelter, people turn to the invisible.
kaorita
There was a small place off the coast, where i would go when I’m angry. It wasn’t much but it was a shelter from the elements and a shelter from my negitive feelings of home. I always made myself let go as I listened to the waves crash around me. It was raining heavy today, so I know they will be worried. But I could not bring myself to return just yet.
Shelter in a storm is most unwelcome when you find that it is entirely filled with flesh-eating maggots falling out of every crevice in the ceiling. Ah the misery of post-elephant take-over. No one saw this coming, elephants forcing us to live in the most dire of living conditions.
Shelter from the storm. Gimme shelter. Tax shelter. Let me shelter this child from all the bad things in the world. She is too young to see. She will learn about them soon enough.
Margaret
Flesh on flesh. Vague promises of home. I will ache for you in the morning still. Your bones are hollow like your words, so weak. I built these walls because of you. I tore them down for you the same. Curtains over my eyes so pretty. I will see what I choose, not the truth. Take shelter in me, temporary love, and I will provide. Leave me with a blueprint in my heart. Leave me with a hammer. I will build again, without you.
She was a pretty young thing, with a wicker basket tucked in the crook of her elbow and her mouth curved upwards in a smile as she waved towards the father-son duo.
“I don’t bite and it’s dry and warm in here.” She held open the curtain door to her hut. “The animals will be fine. The courtyard is warded with a protection circle. It keeps all animals safe. You’d like it better in here though.”
The father moved first, and the son followed immediately afterwards. They gratefully stepped into the shelter and were waved towards the fireplace in the corner.
“I’ll get it going in a second.” She deposited the basket on the counter and whipped off the damp shawl, threading it over a clothesline intersecting the hut. She winked at the fireplace and a spark of fire leapt to life.
The father stiffened and turned to her, but the boy stared.
There was something so comforting about being in Lauren’s presence. She was my safe haven, my shelter from the storm that was my life. I never expected her to leave, to take away the only stability I had ever known.
I couldn’t find shelter anywhere I looked.
I fought and contrived my way home
but didn’t make it
So I cryed
but no one would know
my tears were masked by the rain.
He was strong, like a soldier riding a horse. He was the kind of boy who would protect me from all harm, as he swore he would shelter me. The sort of innocence he imagined me to have was crazy, but I let him live off the image of me being his sweet doll.
Give me shelter for my pains. My childhood awaits. My life needs that. Come and give it to me, sweet heart. Don’t leave me alone, as always.
Shelter
My favorite shelter? The arms of the man who loves me, cares for me, protects me. With a roof of our own over our head or not, we are home when together.
i seek for shelter in your arms. it isn’t a good moment to find out that you are a coward. you need shelter yourself. you can’t stand to help someone else in need. you feel that your own need is more important. the person who sheltered you every single time…is about to shelter you again. because that is what a good friend does. i sacrifice everything, and you sacrifice your pride.
They took shelter from the rain in a small cafe.
“it hardly ever rains here and then the moment you get here it starts pouring!”
His sister was joking an he knew it but to anyone else she would have sounded completely serious,”but I thought you liked the rain?” he replied jokingingly. “not when I’m in it I don’t!” She laughed.
If only there was such a thing as shelter from this cold world, solace from this cruel world and it’s harsh people. Everything is so real it’s unrealistic, perhaps I should be less ‘real’ and sink into delusion, maybe it’s the only shelter left. Idiocy, stupidity, blindness. The only comfort left. I truely envy those who are blind and don’t have to see this crazed, messed up, blood stained world we live in.
Silently and stealthily, charles creeped into the bay center animal shelter, gun in hand. The only lights in the building were the lit displays of fish tanks and various educational descriptions. He walked toward the security door where he knew they would be waiting for him. This was not a surprise attack mission. He took a deep breath as he practiced each morning during his meditation and sun salutations and kicked down the door. Three shots were fired.
Silently and stealthily, charles creeped into the bay center, gun in hard. The only lights in the building were the lit displays of fish tanks and various educational descriptions. He walked toward the security door where he knew they would be waiting for him. This was not a surprise attack mission. He took a deep breath as he practiced each morning during his meditation and sun salutations and kicked down the door. Three shots were fired.
Running, it was as if my legs were on fire. Flaming with both speed and pain. I had one thing in sight and one thing only. The tall roof and strong building. It came rushing towards me. Shelter. I was safe.
Then the rain started to fall.
Gimme Shelter. That was her favorite Rolling Stones song. He remembered her singing it in the shower that first night, when it was hot and humid outside and the windows fogged up. He wanted to go back in time, back to that night when she was singing, climb in the shower with her and
i suppose i could have called you my shelter, once.
your heart (could have, should have, would have been) my castle.
and your arms kept me together, held me down (bruising touch, fingerprints for days.)
i suppose i could have called you my shelter, once.
but i’m oohsofuckingglad i found my ‘home.’
Your arms
Hot chocolate
Nutella
Cookies fresh out of the oven
Cinnamon rolls
We were building something
Something like family
Something like home
Something like a sanctuary
Let me go back there
Soon
One of my favorite things to do when I was a kid was volunteer at the homeless shelter in Charleston. We’d make then pasta and chili and all sorts of stuff and we did it as a family. It made me really realize how awesome my family is and how fortunate we are.
I needed somewhere to go. I ran off to Greenville, though it was originally the last place that I’d ever want to find myself. I thought I’d feel safe here…but the bones turning up, her leaving, no job and no money…I felt anything but safe. I needed to find a way out, a way back. If I were to leave though, everyone would call me a failure. And who knows…maybe I am a failure. At least, that’s how I was beginning to feel these days. I just missed home, I guess.
The tiny mouse darted through the city streets and over rocky cobblestones, as raindrops smacked against his head and the city noise pounded on his ears. His tiny wicks of amber fur pressed against his confused black dots of eyes, and suddenly there was nothing but the vivace pounding of his heart in his chest. Thumps like raindrops, all the raindrops and heartbeats and raindrops, beat like drums on his ears. Everything was thunder, and there was nothing but the greatness of it, the monstrosity of sound and light and violence that was the world. And then, only darkness. Nothing but the warm embrace of silence. Then, a soft hand fell away from his eyes, was now a halo above him, and he found himself immersed in shelter.
It was a particularly windy April day when you found her huddled in the bus shelter, waiting. To you, she had always been the obnoxious girl next door, a few years too young to ever be of any interest. But today, as exemplified by the freak weather, was an exception. She did not give you her customary gap-toothed grin as you silently sat next to her. With a steely sort of pride that seemed missplaced on the face of an eight year-old, she held out her handful of assorted change and a few crumpled bills.
“I’m running away for good this time.”
You finally noticed the pink backpack cradled on her lap, bulging with her precious posessions.
“Why?” was all you were able to say.
In reply, she gave you perhaps the most jaded smile you would ever see in your life. The bus wheezed to a stop in front of where the two of you sat, and all you could do was stare at her thin, wobbly child’s legs as she mounted the steps and finally moved out of your sight.
and so worries no longer haunt me,
the world has lost its grip on me,
i can walk on the glass
and it seldom cuts my feet,
i look forward to painting the skies,
when i lay down to die,
you are my shelter;
my assurance in life.
Shelter. You were shelter when rain was pouring. And now i’m unsure of life before you, it is but a blur. And I wonder if it is healthy to be so intertwined and blended with you. But whether it is or it isn’t, you are my shelter.
shelter.
She ran and ran, but wasn’t sure where she was going. Her hair flug behind her and her breath escaping in painful gasps. She didn’t dare look back for she wasn’t sure what she would see. She was afraid to see. She tripped, too afraid even to make a startled sound, but kept herself upright and continued to run. She needed a shelter and quickly.
I find peace in chaos. Shelter. When the sun vibrates the blue of the sky, where others find tranquility, I take refuge in the violence of the sky’s shimmering. When the moon fully purifies the souls of men reflecting the light of our provider, I see a thousand nuclear storms tearing through my eyes to collide with my mind.
A house a shelter but for me little more. Parents hate me. Want me gone. Shelter but nothing more. Simply a house but surly not a home.
it began to rain so Jake ran to find a shelter.
She sat underneath the bus stop waiting and waiting. But no one ever came. Sheltered from the rain with her heart under lock and key.
His arms wrapped around her, sheltering her from every danger, every doubt, every misgiving. With him she was safe from anything and everything anyone could do to her.
“Gwen?” he asked, pushing a tendril of her silver-blonde hair behind her ears.
“Yes, love?”
“You know you’re safe with me, right? Always?”
She smiled then, her head resting where it fit perfectly in the hollow of his throat.
“Always.”
His arms wrapped around her, sheltering her from everything. The rain that beat down around them seemed to disappear, as if there were a small circle of ceiling directly above them, blocking out the water. He was safety, shelter, love; with him around her, nothing could go wrong.
Sherlock snuck into the shelter, bundled up in a borrowed jacket as he infiltrated the homeless crowd, searching for a new recruit. In rushed whispers and passed notes (monetary and otherwise), he silently and secretly combed the room of dirty veterans and women down on their luck. His target was near, he was sure of it. His network had informed him of the newcomer, just in from out of town. Sherlock was eager to see if he could get any information on the carnival in Surrey from someone who would be more able to view it from an insider’s view.
Finally, Sherlock came upon the dirty young carnie, and after a few moments of interrogation and bribery, was rewarded with a confirmation of his suspicions. He wormed his way back out of the crowd and covertly tugged John out of the soup line, where he had been patiently waiting with a hidden smile of amusement. It really was genius, he knew, making use of this cheap source of information. He followed along behind Sherlock and shed his smelly coat outside the door, eager to be back in their safe apartment.
I took shelter, using the lee of the tree in the storm. I walked until blahahahaha
Sometimes I feel vulnerable when I’m alone.
I keep my friends with me because they make me brave,
they give me courage, and they are my shelter.
I don’t know what I’m going to do now.
gimme shelter
i take shelter for granted. I have always had a place to live. I lived for 19 years at the parents’ while growing up. Later I lived in a variety of places through college and beyond. For the last 27 years I have lived in one place – an old house with character and flaws but I like it.
It offers a false shelter
But a shelter all the same
A shitty one at that
But I’d rather have a real shelter
A kind one
Providing shelter to those in need. We all seek shelter from the storms in our life. Who helps provide it tells us who is worthy of our love and friendships!
a place of calm in the storm, a place you can lean into to take refuge, take a breather, let it all go and feel safe and protected.
i take shelter in the invisible. i mean, in reading and writing. i really feel these deeds are places. when there is no physical shelter, people turn to the invisible.
There was a small place off the coast, where i would go when I’m angry. It wasn’t much but it was a shelter from the elements and a shelter from my negitive feelings of home. I always made myself let go as I listened to the waves crash around me. It was raining heavy today, so I know they will be worried. But I could not bring myself to return just yet.
Shelter in a storm is most unwelcome when you find that it is entirely filled with flesh-eating maggots falling out of every crevice in the ceiling. Ah the misery of post-elephant take-over. No one saw this coming, elephants forcing us to live in the most dire of living conditions.
Shelter from the storm. Gimme shelter. Tax shelter. Let me shelter this child from all the bad things in the world. She is too young to see. She will learn about them soon enough.
Flesh on flesh. Vague promises of home. I will ache for you in the morning still. Your bones are hollow like your words, so weak. I built these walls because of you. I tore them down for you the same. Curtains over my eyes so pretty. I will see what I choose, not the truth. Take shelter in me, temporary love, and I will provide. Leave me with a blueprint in my heart. Leave me with a hammer. I will build again, without you.
“Come in, quickly!”
She was a pretty young thing, with a wicker basket tucked in the crook of her elbow and her mouth curved upwards in a smile as she waved towards the father-son duo.
“I don’t bite and it’s dry and warm in here.” She held open the curtain door to her hut. “The animals will be fine. The courtyard is warded with a protection circle. It keeps all animals safe. You’d like it better in here though.”
The father moved first, and the son followed immediately afterwards. They gratefully stepped into the shelter and were waved towards the fireplace in the corner.
“I’ll get it going in a second.” She deposited the basket on the counter and whipped off the damp shawl, threading it over a clothesline intersecting the hut. She winked at the fireplace and a spark of fire leapt to life.
The father stiffened and turned to her, but the boy stared.
He’d never seen a girl with two-colored eyes.
There was something so comforting about being in Lauren’s presence. She was my safe haven, my shelter from the storm that was my life. I never expected her to leave, to take away the only stability I had ever known.