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sometimes the days are like walking on pins and needles….I’m waiting, holding my breath to see what happens. the anxiety, the stress of what will happen next. it can all melt away with a glance or a touch – some reassurance from you.
By More Everything URL on 04.09.2012
These were the only reminders I had left of where I used to be, and maybe these always told me to never let go too soon.
Maybe holding on for so long, or letting go too soon made me forget how to feel.
By Alexis Lim on 04.09.2012
The pin fell out of the man’s pocket as he stepped onto the platform. Red and blue lights whizzed past him. The man picked up the sword off the ground. He swung.
By Bryce on 04.09.2012
and needles in my toes after I gave you a backrub, sitting on the bed, cutting off the circulation through my ankles as you typed and typed late at night and I was wearing lingerie, trying to get you to bed, but you had to work, same as before, same as always, same as forever.
By Anais on 04.09.2012
Her faith was held together tenuously, delicate stitches of trust weaving together, one demonstration at a time, to create a beautiful tapestry of hope, comfort and love.
By Alison on 04.09.2012
He slowly pulled the multiple pins out from his wig, and then unclasped his bra. He had to stop this, but he couldn’t. It was extremely embarrassing, he felt as if everyone knew his lies, even though he had a very feminine face. His dresses called to him, and he couldn’t do anything but answer.
By Sir Hammington URL on 04.09.2012
Pins hold the pieces together so that you sew in a straight line. So that the fabric doesn’t run away from you or get bunched up. You are my pin. You keep me on track and keep me from bunching up.
By Amy on 04.09.2012
She closed her eyes and waited for the pain. “And two and three.” And there it was, long and sharp and silver, piercing her flesh. She couldn’t hide the quick inhalation of surprise and pain, but by the time she was done breathing in it had been placed.
By Jen Sullivan on 04.09.2012
He took the hair pins from her hair, each one deconstructing the masterpiece that had been her updo. Curls fell one by one. He touched them, never tiring of the silken kinks.
By Andrea on 04.09.2012
I feel a thousand pins pricking my arms or feet when they fall asleep. They are like tiny little alarms telling my limbs to wake up because they are about to be used. Of course I always get annoyed with those tiny alarms because they make me feel weird but they are just doing their job.
By Cassie on 04.09.2012
He pulled the hair pins from her hair, each one deconstructing the masterpiece that was her updo. One by one, curls fell. He touched them, never tiring of the silken kinks. Someday they would be white instead of brown, but he would love them just the same.
When you fall asleep inside the circle of his arms,
and you awake but slumber still holds him,
you can’t move, not a muscle.
Your leg is probably full of pins and needles because you’ve slept in the same position all night.
But you can’t move.
You can’t disturb this moment.
Don’t break it. Just breathe it in. This is a moment you can prolong. So hold it in your hands and marvel at it’s simplicity.
By Dulcie URL on 04.09.2012
He handed her his pen.
“No, I need your PIN.”
By Jessica Bang URL on 04.09.2012
Pins tearing through cloth, scratching skin, and nudging bones. Pinned like a butterfly on a corkboard. Purely for looking beautiful. Too rough but she’ll stand still with her chin tipped up and tape wrapped around her ankles, pins in her bones.
By Cassie URL on 04.09.2012
I don’t know much about pins. Just that this wasn’t just a pin. Golden paint which was flaking off told me as much. There was a piece of paper stuck inside it which I pulled out. There was nothing on it.
That was strange.
Why would anyone go to the trouble of hiding a piece of paper with nothing written on it.
By Quinis on 04.09.2012
I would rather feel the sharp prick of a pin or hundreds of pins stabbing into my fleshy side
By Abby on 04.09.2012
pushpin paper doll,
my wedding dress tacked on at my clavicles and hips;
polished up from my toes to my lips;
bought out by someone’s daddy’s dowry check
and still nothing to write home about
except poetry that i thought i could grow to mean
pressed between pages like dead flowers
in a diary that i tossed out to sea.
By jack h. davis URL on 04.09.2012
My hair is pulled up in a tight bun and my dress suffocates me as I walk down the hall. Pins stick me and I feel the holes in my sides slowly open more and more. Why am I doing this?
By Jensen on 04.09.2012
Pins belong in pin cushions. Pins are like things that stitch us together and keep us from falling apart. They hold us into place, especially if we have not yet been stitched. Pins precede finality, in that they are the lay out for our make up but are subject to change when placed under the needle. Pins are pulled out when the stitches are sewn into place, making us unchangeable and forever one way…that is unless one has scissors and decides to cut the surface back open to re-do what’s already been done. Also, pins hurt when you step on them and can get stuck in your skin. Ouch.
By Maddie on 04.09.2012
Pins, pins and needles in my stomach when I hear hurtful things about the one I love. Pins and needles when I get nervous. Pins and needles when I sew. Pins and needles hurt to touch. Pins pins pins, ouch ohh ahhh.
By Eliza LaBelle URL on 04.09.2012
Well they’re spiky. I wish I’d had pins this morning to pin up my dress before I sewed it up. It would have been really helpful to hold the cloth in place first. But things worked out well enough. I can’t buy too much now because I’m a college student, but when I have my own place, I’ll fill it with useful things like rice cookers and pins.
By wobster109 URL on 04.09.2012
every morning I wake
a pin falls from my once sealed mask
now for god’s sake
why wouldn’t this happen to you
since the morning it started
i’ve begun to wonder what the mirror will stare
when it finally falls off
but I also do not really care
By alasicka on 04.09.2012
eat a thousand pins and needles if I lie….pinky-promise-san.
By Patrick URL on 04.09.2012
I sat on a bunch of pins! It hurt so badly I screamed! My mom came running into the living room. The pins in my bottom were her fault. She loves to sew and left all of her pins out on the couch. But she says she didn’t leave them out. My brother did it! I’m gonna get him back!
By Jennifer Christianson on 04.09.2012
Tiny and shiny, these little pricks hold my projects in place. They hold green against purple and keep stitches in a straight row.
By Kar on 04.09.2012
pins and needles we step on, as we wait to see what’s coming next
All of these encounters are interesting, one’s shared with the opposite sex
Making sure we look alright, and trying to act in a way they want
We hide all of our imperfections, and things we are good at, we try to flaunt
But I try not to participate in things such as these
In the end it doesnt let your mind reach happiness and ease
Ill be myself even though i may not be loved by some
Because maybe ive already found that special dove in one
By Alec Vigil URL on 04.09.2012
You create dissections with your words, carefully slicing situations from anterior to posterior. Spreading each part of a problem out upon the table top for all to see, you precisely stick in anatomical pins to label each worrysome part: here the shriveled sack of the stomach, lined with veins and filled with acidic liquid lies, there the careless larynx, spoken hoarse through needless reiteration, and there the heart of the problem, halfway hidden behind a lung, consisting of two colors and two minds. You know you cannot separate the two different views, the blue from the red, without slicing through tough cardiovascular muscle and shedding utterly unnecessary blood.
By WearyWater URL on 04.09.2012
My mother is an incredible seamstress. Amazing. I will never be as good as her. And she will not live forever. So who will repair my children’s clothes? I suppose I should learn. It would be an honor to sit beside a professional. I love my mother. I will learn to sew.
By Sarah Lee URL on 04.09.2012
pins… i sit in front of the mirror.. tonight is the night i say as i slip into my beautiful black mini dress. i apply foundation, eyeliner, eyeshadow, and lip balm. i pin my curled hair into a princess updo as i wait from my prince to ring my doorbell
By sorryimnotperfect on 04.09.2012
Pins and needles.
Needles and pins.
I’m waiting for you to make the first move. I really can’t wait. I’ve been awake all night just dreaming of the way it will happen.
How you’ll work up the nerve to look in my direction. How you’ll try not to smile as our eyes meet. How you’ll manage to somehow stand next to me at the bus stop. How you’ll fidget and smile and blush.
Then you’ll try and try and try.
You might stammer, stutter and sneeze.
But somehow, you’ll do it.
You’ll ask me.
And I’ll say yes.
Because I’d be thrilled to go with you, my prince.
“Bri–oh, hey Al.”
“Want to go to the dance this Friday?”
“Awesome. Pick you up at seven?”
“Seven-thirty. I have to set my hair.”
To hold together the dress I’m making to wear to the dance on Friday.
By Sara H. URL on 04.09.2012
There were decorative metallic pins on the corner edges of a fake shirt pocket on her right breast. Caddy used to smile at anything shiny.
By DMM on 04.09.2012
she walked over and took the needle from Westley. ” Ow! it pricked me” she exclaimed. Westley walked over to her, took it back, and said,” you should’nt have took
By NUNYABUSINESS scott on 04.09.2012
My day ended badly. You could say that everything was on pins, except that I don’t think that’s any kind of catchall or euphemism so I suppose you can’t. But I digress. Which, come to think of it, I do a lot. Maybe it’s something to do with the babbling. Oh drat! But I don’t WANT to talk about me right now because you have to know about how my brother in law became the most powerful man in the world and killed off twenty percent of the population.
By Mairead URL on 04.09.2012
Staple safety to a wall, keep it there, careful and pinned. don’t let it fall. add more pins. keep it stable. don’t let it fall. add decorations. add romance, friends, and family. don’t let it fall.
By meliora URL on 04.09.2012
pins and needles are what i feel, as i get up after sitting on my leg.In the process i get up to fast, making me light headed.I get up quickly but it is to late. Everybody saw me fall on my ass.
Pins fell from the sky. The crisis has beckoned many to abandon their civilised lives so they may go into hiding. Underground bunkers have grown wildly popular.
By Shell on 04.09.2012
Pressure points pulsed like pressurized push-pins, punching in deeper with every stray move and motion. Sleeping on rocks would’ve been less harmful than that mattress.
By L. A. Smith URL on 04.09.2012
Small. Shiny. Quiet. And they can still hold everything together.
Sometimes she wishes she could do that, too.
By Lei-Lei on 04.09.2012
By Meg on 04.09.2012
6 am being on the computer all night. its time to get ready, i stand up and look around my room, my desk catches my attention. theres a frame on it, youre holding your late baby sister in you arms. the second i remember how much i miss her, i get pins and needles in my leg. i miss her, i miss you, i miss then…
i have to get ready for work now.
By Lucy on 04.09.2012
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.