“You have stolen my heart.”
The Dashboard Confessional song played over the radio as your hands slid up my spine, pulling my shirt up with them. I have never been this close to someone before. One hand unclasped my bra, the other tangled in my hair. My heart felt as if it was going to leap out of my chest and into yours. You had truly stolen me.
you came to the court, poor as a peasant.
soon i learned to separate your steps from all the others.
“they will call me a traitor.”
“why do you even care?”
all the silver and gold raining down on you.
The diamond rested on the plush velvet cushion behind the thin but impenatrable layer of glass. Slowly, I danced forward, dodging the red laser beams until I reached the diamond. It was so close. Footsteps behind me alerted me to someone coming and I ducked behind the case, unlocking the bottom of it with the key I had stolen earlier.
It was stolen. The best kind of kiss. Out behind our old apple tree, she leaned in and kissed me on my cheek and I could feel my face blush – of course I didn’t know that feeling meant blushing. Then we returned to our dolls’ tea party.
Taken without permission. Those kisses that he took when you weren’t expecting them. Then he went for your heart, and you didn’t know he had it until he was gone, leaving you broken and with a need for revenge.
I know…That you’ve stolen my life from me. That you came like a thief in the night, taking all that was mine and making it yours.
And I never forgive.
I never forget.
The day will come when you return to that home that you call yours, and find everything gone. When you wake up and there’s nothing left for you, when you’ve lost it all and wondered in bewilderment how it all happened.
And you shall know…that what you have was stolen from you.
My grandchildren are wonderful. They have stolen my heart. However, I do remember being very upset to have my car stolen and absolutely disgusted when my mother was burgled and her jewellery was stolen
She stood on top of the hill, starting out over the mountains and crags, the valleys and hollows. Her stolen bike was down there somewhere. Was it in pieces already, engine here, headlamp there?
No, she thought. No one would take apart a rig like that. It’s too enticing. I’ll hear it before I see it, she thought. The screech of the tires, the whoops when they take that first right turn wrong and the sidecar flies up into the air.
She cinched her small backpack onto her shoulders. I’ll find you, she thought. I’ll find you.
my heart. broken and wandering. wondering. wherefore the taker is pleased with himself. biding his time until the next unwitting victim steps in his path. carefree.
All I can really think about is how you’ve stolen everything about me – everything that I thought defined me. You’ve broken me down, roughened me up, brought out the side of me that I never even wanted to think about, let alone recognize. And all this, without you knowing that you’ve done it to me. And I don’t even want to talk about the possibility that you’ve stolen something very important to me – the cliche that makes all the romance movies in the world go round.
Every step down the slick sidewalk felt like a knife in my foot as I made my way to the restaurant. I wanted nothing more than to stay in my hotel room bed, drink a glass of wine and fall asleep.
As I seriously contemplated turning on my heels and hobbling back to the hotel, I felt a tug at my arm. My purse! A man with a dark colored hoodie sprinted past me, my worn-out handbag clutched in his arms.
her kisses with me – fleeting, around corners and in stairwells, in rooms on floors no one visited; and they linger, those moments as if they just happened and will soon again.
“You have stolen my heart.”
The Dashboard Confessional song played over the radio as your hands slid up my spine, pulling my shirt up with them. I have never been this close to someone before. One hand unclasped my bra, the other tangled in my hair. My heart felt as if it was going to leap out of my chest and into yours. You had truly stolen me.
it is a very bad habit no one should do it and being a resposible citizen we should also stop
They took his sunglasses, wallet, change from the ashtray, and maybe more. He didn’t suspect them at first, he accused me.
you came to the court, poor as a peasant.
soon i learned to separate your steps from all the others.
“they will call me a traitor.”
“why do you even care?”
all the silver and gold raining down on you.
The post belongs to me.
The diamond rested on the plush velvet cushion behind the thin but impenatrable layer of glass. Slowly, I danced forward, dodging the red laser beams until I reached the diamond. It was so close. Footsteps behind me alerted me to someone coming and I ducked behind the case, unlocking the bottom of it with the key I had stolen earlier.
It was stolen. The best kind of kiss. Out behind our old apple tree, she leaned in and kissed me on my cheek and I could feel my face blush – of course I didn’t know that feeling meant blushing. Then we returned to our dolls’ tea party.
Taken without permission. Those kisses that he took when you weren’t expecting them. Then he went for your heart, and you didn’t know he had it until he was gone, leaving you broken and with a need for revenge.
Those memories…
Those thoughts…
Those feelings…
Those emotions…
Those relationships…
I will never forget.
I will never forgive.
I know who you are.
I know what you did.
I know…That you’ve stolen my life from me. That you came like a thief in the night, taking all that was mine and making it yours.
And I never forgive.
I never forget.
The day will come when you return to that home that you call yours, and find everything gone. When you wake up and there’s nothing left for you, when you’ve lost it all and wondered in bewilderment how it all happened.
And you shall know…that what you have was stolen from you.
…Just as you had stolen from me.
My grandchildren are wonderful. They have stolen my heart. However, I do remember being very upset to have my car stolen and absolutely disgusted when my mother was burgled and her jewellery was stolen
She stood on top of the hill, starting out over the mountains and crags, the valleys and hollows. Her stolen bike was down there somewhere. Was it in pieces already, engine here, headlamp there?
No, she thought. No one would take apart a rig like that. It’s too enticing. I’ll hear it before I see it, she thought. The screech of the tires, the whoops when they take that first right turn wrong and the sidecar flies up into the air.
She cinched her small backpack onto her shoulders. I’ll find you, she thought. I’ll find you.
recently,my belongings have been stolen by Mr. Nobody..
He had stolen their youth, their innocence, their belief in goodness and in hope, all in a single thoughtless action.
my heart. broken and wandering. wondering. wherefore the taker is pleased with himself. biding his time until the next unwitting victim steps in his path. carefree.
My whole life has been stolen from me while I sit in despair; nothing seems to be resolving.
All I can really think about is how you’ve stolen everything about me – everything that I thought defined me. You’ve broken me down, roughened me up, brought out the side of me that I never even wanted to think about, let alone recognize. And all this, without you knowing that you’ve done it to me. And I don’t even want to talk about the possibility that you’ve stolen something very important to me – the cliche that makes all the romance movies in the world go round.
Every step down the slick sidewalk felt like a knife in my foot as I made my way to the restaurant. I wanted nothing more than to stay in my hotel room bed, drink a glass of wine and fall asleep.
As I seriously contemplated turning on my heels and hobbling back to the hotel, I felt a tug at my arm. My purse! A man with a dark colored hoodie sprinted past me, my worn-out handbag clutched in his arms.
her kisses with me – fleeting, around corners and in stairwells, in rooms on floors no one visited; and they linger, those moments as if they just happened and will soon again.
you aren’t supposed to give your heart away
when you’re twelve.
but i shouldn’t have tried so hard
to learn your name,
to know your face,
and i shouldn’t have smiled so wide
when i got you
to come out and play.
we shouldn’t have snuck into
old buildings,
tossing salt over our shoulders,
and we shouldn’t have let
the ocean embrace us
when the water was too cold,
you shouldn’t have looked so hurt
when i told you
that i was leaving,
and you shouldn’t have held my hand
when you were too afraid
to ask me to stay.
you aren’t supposed to give your heart away
when you’re twelve,
and you shouldn’t wish for the world
when you weren’t yet
big enough to contain it
but i always spent the night dreaming
like i was never waking up again
and i’ve broken rules for causes i believed in
far less than i do you.