I thought I’d feel more secure, being in my first real relationship. I never considered my last relationship an actual relationship—it was a sham! I felt betrayed… and never learned how to be affectionate or love someone… But now I would have to learn—be forced to perhaps?
Secure. At least. I’m fine living behind armored doors. Nobody can touch me. Nothing to touch for me neither… besides this cold cell walls I trapped my self into.
The room is cosy and warm, there is firelight. The door is locked against the storm raging outside. I am reclining on a sofa with my knees and back supported. There is bread and cheese close at hand and a dog rests its head on the edge of the sofa and looks up with adoring eyes.
I am secure in this airport. I know it. I was checked five times; patted down, beeped down and spun around and questioned thrice. Thank God I’m Secure.
Secure, I’ve done this before.
Endure, it’s what I do when i’m sore.
Never stop, gotta keep on going
Always drop, the lines to keep on flowing
It’s a never ending story
Things will never change
Let it be forever
And I will stay
The incessant ringing of the alarm woke me up. It irked me but last night’s memories came flooding to my mind inundating it with sheer bliss and happiness. The alarm was out of my reach but I dint care. I just let it ring. This morning was just too perfect. The sunlight was streaming through the gap between yellow curtains, birds were chirping, and the softness of the satiny quilt felt wonderful against my skin. His embrace tightened and he mumbled something in his sleep. We had talked late into the night. Smoothing every dent of doubt and misunderstanding which had drifted us apart. There was so much catching up to do, so much to say that we yapped all through the night, falling asleep only in the wee hours of the morning. I snuggled closer and sighed. I felt so secure in his arms. This felt so right; this is how it should be…always.
secure…safety…something which is so difficult to achieve some may believe it is unattainable, for of course, the only place where you are truly the most secure, the most unprone to being harmed, is when you’re already dead.
Wrapped up in his arms, she felt brave and warm and for once – not lonely. But she opened her eyes and realized it was a dream, or perhaps the memory of a dream and once again only the cool wind was there to kiss her. Cool wind and the empty night.
I do not feel secure.
Everyone is always watching
Me as I go
Throughout this life.
Paranoia sets in.
I am not alone,
Ever. Security is but a vague dream,
Tempting me again and again to
Pursue it. But alas, I cannot,
As I am never alone.
The engine revved as they pulled around the curve of the pier. He jostled on the seat, slipping back and forth with each bump and divot, no belt to keep him from the water that looped so far below. The sky stretched out above them, to the edge of the sea where the sun began to fade. The bike slipped and slid, but for all the danger, he had never felt so secure.
I never knew the meaning of secure until looked into her brown eyes. With her nose tucked shyly under paw, there was a lot resting on that look. Hoping I wouldn’t pass her over, trusting that if I didn’t she would finally be loved. Secure in a forever home.
sam didn’t feel secure in her relationship anymore. brandon is in a different city. dave is right next to her. he smokes. but he’s close. and brandon is adorable, but uptight. dave smokes, but is funny. so what’s so secure about being secure? did i mention he smokes?
Secure the border.
Everyday,
dust churning in the air,
so much you could choke on it,
swallow it whole
like the life
you live in
could swallow you.
And running is all you can do
to stop the suffocation,
the gangs,
the lifestyle.
So you churn dust
until you get across the border.
And that’s all you can hope for.
It annoys me that a lot of women think of marriage as being secure. Women are brainwashed into thinking life is not complete unless you find the “secure”-ness of a man.
behind teeth, all cocooned in silk. no sinking ships here, not for miles and miles. these waters are calm now. ah, mi amor. that consuming white light, that lovely blur of the morning.
I do not feel spiritually secure when i am with… her. Even if I really have the intention to be a better person. She really drives me crazy. I wish I can be with myself again.
I lock the door. I hear it click. And while my feet pad up the stairs to my bedroom. I think I’m secure, but am I really? Are we ever secure? And what’s worse. Thinking you are, or knowing you’re not?
is only in our imagination. It is what we decide we want to be secure..it is how we perceive. but does secure mean stable? or structured? i’m not sure we’re better off with secure…it can only get us so far. we’re secure until we realize what we don’t have and we get our feathers ruffled and start back at the beginning.
I felt so secure that day you took me in your arms. With your warmth and your strength, I knew nothing could ever go wrong as long as I was with you. You became my protection, my security from the baneful apparitions of my mind. This was my moment of serenity. You never let go until I asked. You never left; you were always there to make sure I was comfortable.
I care too much about empathy to be secure. I like to think that I’m empathetic to peoples feelings, I think it’s really just that I’m too insecure to form an opinion and stick with it. I’ve never been good at defending myself, and I don’t want to argue anymore.
the feeling of security itself makes me secure, like radar and night lights.. like the sound of rain hitting the roof and the dogs walking around. the smell of bacon and coffee.. hugs from my parents. the sound of my child laughing and the smack on my butt from my husband.
I’ve been thinking a lot of the relationships between the spaces people inhabit and the way they effect your relationships with the people you inhabit them with. For some friends, you may have many places you’re with them, for others, just one place where you spend most of your time with them.
I feel secure in your arms. I feel safe, and comfortable with you, all alone or in a crowd. Please never leave my side, but I know you won’t so I won’t worry. I love you and you l love me so of course I feel secure.
I know that you are there, and will always be there. You will lend me your shoulder when I am down. You will talk me through failure and give me hopes for better days. Lift my spirits and give me a place to call home. Security is what you offer, and acceptance is my middle name.
The security. Gaurds at my middle school wore green shirts. Cray on green shirts. They were pollos. Good polls. Typically oversized and smelling like golf carts.not that I took a whiff of one or anything. ..like. .. that. That would be really weird. And i think i ran over 60 seconds. Sounds painful.
I needed to secure him properly. Otherwise it could all be over in a matter of minutes. I pulled each knot tight, knots I had learned in girl guides all those years ago. He was sleeping now, but soon he would wake, and when he did, I would be ready. I would be ready to pay him back for all the years of torment he had so graciously given me.
I just want a blanket. Something to keep me warm, to hold me through the night, to stay as long as I want. Be my security blanket.
I thought I’d feel more secure, being in my first real relationship. I never considered my last relationship an actual relationship—it was a sham! I felt betrayed… and never learned how to be affectionate or love someone… But now I would have to learn—be forced to perhaps?
Secure. At least. I’m fine living behind armored doors. Nobody can touch me. Nothing to touch for me neither… besides this cold cell walls I trapped my self into.
The room is cosy and warm, there is firelight. The door is locked against the storm raging outside. I am reclining on a sofa with my knees and back supported. There is bread and cheese close at hand and a dog rests its head on the edge of the sofa and looks up with adoring eyes.
i long to feel secure. any kind of security will do. i dont want to worry. i just want to live.
I am secure in this airport. I know it. I was checked five times; patted down, beeped down and spun around and questioned thrice. Thank God I’m Secure.
oh god!!! What have I done!!! I just activate this shit!!! Now that bar is increasing it’s size and maybe explode something…
Secure, I’ve done this before.
Endure, it’s what I do when i’m sore.
Never stop, gotta keep on going
Always drop, the lines to keep on flowing
It’s a never ending story
Things will never change
Let it be forever
And I will stay
Secure is what I feel when I’m around my best friends,
Hoping that the support will never end
Feelings bend, never send, letters now
The incessant ringing of the alarm woke me up. It irked me but last night’s memories came flooding to my mind inundating it with sheer bliss and happiness. The alarm was out of my reach but I dint care. I just let it ring. This morning was just too perfect. The sunlight was streaming through the gap between yellow curtains, birds were chirping, and the softness of the satiny quilt felt wonderful against my skin. His embrace tightened and he mumbled something in his sleep. We had talked late into the night. Smoothing every dent of doubt and misunderstanding which had drifted us apart. There was so much catching up to do, so much to say that we yapped all through the night, falling asleep only in the wee hours of the morning. I snuggled closer and sighed. I felt so secure in his arms. This felt so right; this is how it should be…always.
secure…safety…something which is so difficult to achieve some may believe it is unattainable, for of course, the only place where you are truly the most secure, the most unprone to being harmed, is when you’re already dead.
iv never felt secure in anything i do it dosnt seem right
Wrapped up in his arms, she felt brave and warm and for once – not lonely. But she opened her eyes and realized it was a dream, or perhaps the memory of a dream and once again only the cool wind was there to kiss her. Cool wind and the empty night.
I do not feel secure.
Everyone is always watching
Me as I go
Throughout this life.
Paranoia sets in.
I am not alone,
Ever. Security is but a vague dream,
Tempting me again and again to
Pursue it. But alas, I cannot,
As I am never alone.
Secure, was how I used to feel at home. Now the devil has moved in and I feel l nothing…
I feel secure when I remember your so close by. What more is there to say?
trust in the lord he will direct your steps your security rests in the one who created you
The engine revved as they pulled around the curve of the pier. He jostled on the seat, slipping back and forth with each bump and divot, no belt to keep him from the water that looped so far below. The sky stretched out above them, to the edge of the sea where the sun began to fade. The bike slipped and slid, but for all the danger, he had never felt so secure.
save, policeman, gun, parents, home,husband,
I never knew the meaning of secure until looked into her brown eyes. With her nose tucked shyly under paw, there was a lot resting on that look. Hoping I wouldn’t pass her over, trusting that if I didn’t she would finally be loved. Secure in a forever home.
Feeling secure is the only thing that keeps people sane. It wraps them up, it holds them down.
sam didn’t feel secure in her relationship anymore. brandon is in a different city. dave is right next to her. he smokes. but he’s close. and brandon is adorable, but uptight. dave smokes, but is funny. so what’s so secure about being secure? did i mention he smokes?
I held my hand up infront of my face. Walter stood with one hand on his hip and his left knee jutting out in attitude. “Where have you been?” He
Secure the border.
Everyday,
dust churning in the air,
so much you could choke on it,
swallow it whole
like the life
you live in
could swallow you.
And running is all you can do
to stop the suffocation,
the gangs,
the lifestyle.
So you churn dust
until you get across the border.
And that’s all you can hope for.
It annoys me that a lot of women think of marriage as being secure. Women are brainwashed into thinking life is not complete unless you find the “secure”-ness of a man.
behind teeth, all cocooned in silk. no sinking ships here, not for miles and miles. these waters are calm now. ah, mi amor. that consuming white light, that lovely blur of the morning.
I do not feel spiritually secure when i am with… her. Even if I really have the intention to be a better person. She really drives me crazy. I wish I can be with myself again.
I lock the door. I hear it click. And while my feet pad up the stairs to my bedroom. I think I’m secure, but am I really? Are we ever secure? And what’s worse. Thinking you are, or knowing you’re not?
is only in our imagination. It is what we decide we want to be secure..it is how we perceive. but does secure mean stable? or structured? i’m not sure we’re better off with secure…it can only get us so far. we’re secure until we realize what we don’t have and we get our feathers ruffled and start back at the beginning.
behind teeth, behind bars. all cocooned in silk. no sinking ships here, not for miles. these waters are calm now.
I felt so secure that day you took me in your arms. With your warmth and your strength, I knew nothing could ever go wrong as long as I was with you. You became my protection, my security from the baneful apparitions of my mind. This was my moment of serenity. You never let go until I asked. You never left; you were always there to make sure I was comfortable.
I care too much about empathy to be secure. I like to think that I’m empathetic to peoples feelings, I think it’s really just that I’m too insecure to form an opinion and stick with it. I’ve never been good at defending myself, and I don’t want to argue anymore.
the feeling of security itself makes me secure, like radar and night lights.. like the sound of rain hitting the roof and the dogs walking around. the smell of bacon and coffee.. hugs from my parents. the sound of my child laughing and the smack on my butt from my husband.
I’ve been thinking a lot of the relationships between the spaces people inhabit and the way they effect your relationships with the people you inhabit them with. For some friends, you may have many places you’re with them, for others, just one place where you spend most of your time with them.
Secure is what i have always wanted to be. now i know i have always been
I feel secure in your arms. I feel safe, and comfortable with you, all alone or in a crowd. Please never leave my side, but I know you won’t so I won’t worry. I love you and you l love me so of course I feel secure.
Keep me safe, scare away all the bad dreams. Hunt all the bad men to the ends of the earth. Do what you can, make it safe to dream again.
I know that you are there, and will always be there. You will lend me your shoulder when I am down. You will talk me through failure and give me hopes for better days. Lift my spirits and give me a place to call home. Security is what you offer, and acceptance is my middle name.
The security. Gaurds at my middle school wore green shirts. Cray on green shirts. They were pollos. Good polls. Typically oversized and smelling like golf carts.not that I took a whiff of one or anything. ..like. .. that. That would be really weird. And i think i ran over 60 seconds. Sounds painful.
I needed to secure him properly. Otherwise it could all be over in a matter of minutes. I pulled each knot tight, knots I had learned in girl guides all those years ago. He was sleeping now, but soon he would wake, and when he did, I would be ready. I would be ready to pay him back for all the years of torment he had so graciously given me.