he withheld valuable information. this was in the form of cars, withheld for personal gain. mostly yellow these cars showed the type of man he was. yellow, a coward.
She has withheld herself from breathing
thinking about tomorow
because it’s no future without you
She has withheld herself from others
in prayer that you will find her
because she’s still here
right were you left me
The information was withheld from almost all the parties which it applied to. This was a criminal offense and the prosecution was doing their best to ensure Mr. Marco ended up in prison.
there’s a map etched out, stashed in a drawer, buried beneath sheets and sheets of long-winded longing. it is a map of a perfect world, where my hand meets yours in a familiar pattern. our gazes often cross paths, and we can express in seconds what it takes a lifetime to understand.
this map is the key to a perfect life.
its placement is not a mistake, as i know my own place in this world. while my fingers twitch, restless, they know that yours are not their match; i know we do not fit, as our bodies are two extremes. our hands do not create a seamless eternity, and there is no comfort when you hold my stare. gravity reminds me of where it is i am placed, and by some odd chance, i’ve been allowed to at least look upon the ideal.
feelings that might hurt me if shown to other people. if i’m withheld in things, both physical and mental as well as emotional, it leaves less out there to be hurt. no one can hold me to things that are withheld.
That which the old man had withheld from the boy since his early days was all revealed to him in one swift vengeful silence. It gripped the boy with burning hands and threw him to the ground.
she finally divulged
all the she had withheld from him
he was drowning
he was trying to cling on to the kitchen chair for dear life as his trembling fingers gave way
she had flooded the room with her confessions
filling the whole kitchen with a tumultuous tidal of reveal
nothing could escape this wave’s crashing blows
“he withheld it from me – so no, i was not aware of the situation.” my attorney rolled his eyes at me, fussed with papers on his desk and pursed his lips
It was almost nighttime, she wouldn’t talk to me at all. She turned away, and I quickly learned to hate the red wool of her scarf. She knew how to taunt me, but this time she was serious. The only illumination was the streetlamp above us. We were both silent.
As he ran at me, I withheld all emotion. I closed my eyes and centered my breathing, not even anticipating the collision as his body slammed into mine. I felt him as he shoved me to the floor, yes, but not really. All was at peace in my mind as I slowly lost conciousness under his fists. I’m sure I cried out, positive of it, but it was not me. I am not weak like him, I can control myself. It was my body telling him I’d had enough, even if my brain was too stubborn to admit it. Finally, the terror was over, and he left. I sat, holding in the salty tears until they could withstand no more, running down my face and stinging the raw, mangled flesh he’d left me with.
All my hatred and resentment towards you, my friend, which had seemed so easy to contain a few weeks ago, is now bubbling over, and I fear for the day when it can be withheld no longer.
I withheld my love for you. I withheld it because I was scared. Because I had loved. Because I had lost. Because I had hurt. But I don’t want to withhold anymore. I want to give you all the love I have to give. And more. So I can be held. With. You.
That’s pretty simple. To keep from… I did that last night. I couldn’t tell the girl of my dreams how I really felt about her. I pussyfooted around it… in the worst way possible.
That barrier. That cold stone barrier that loomed over her and covered the all four directions that she could ever face. It was that barrier that withheld her from her dreams, her ambitions, her goals and her life. When would she ever break free?
I’m always withheld from the things I want to do. I’m always told I should focus on other “more important things” and it bothers me. I will always be insecure and lack confidence because I’ve always been told my ideas were not good enough.
Your name has been withheld from consideration because you are no longer living according to our records. If you believe this to be incorrect please contact your superiors.
A million butterflies
are withheld
in my chest,
begging to be let free
the cage opening
as
poems,
songs,
paintings,
art
float into the endless blue sky.
There’s so much, isn’t there. So much I don’t admit to, so much that will never, can never leave my mouth. But that’s okay, for now it’s okay. it’s safe and secure and it only hurts a little. I can deal with that.
Sometime I feel like I’m a bit withheld. Shaped into a certain human-like mold, baked in the oven of my medium suburban hometown. I think this until I see those who don’t fit that mold. They make me realize.
He didn’t want to hold it all in. To withhold everything he wanted to say would not have been right. But he couldn’t tell her. At least, not until after she let go of his throat.
i feel one way but I won’t ever express it. when you’re next to me you’ll never know how the feelings inside me are rioting. all i want is you to touch me…you’ll never know. and I’ll never let you know.
The purring cat withheld her paw once she saw the carry cage that takes her to the vet. She knew the smell. Withdrawing to a hiding haunt she knew the human couldn’t get to she curled up in a little furry ball of ginger and with her wide eyes refused to move until it appeared safe to put a paw out into the hallway.
held back. crying. tears rolling down your face as the chains bind you in a dark, dank dungeon. No freedom or creativity allowed. Darkness and pain. There could be hope…
I’m always held back from my potential. No one ever lets any of my ideas shine. They don’t think they will work. They don’t think they will succeed. They don’t think they will solve anything. But I’ll show you world, that you are wrong.
She withheld from me what was possibly the one thing I only ever needed. I didn’t even realize it had been missing until now. “Please,” I pleaded, my voice quivering. In that moment, I allowed myself to hope. It was for nothing.
She smiled at me, at my plea. She walked away with my happiness.
i was withheld by my own self because of my own incompetence. i couldn’t handle this freedom. there’s too much. who thought that that could be such a bad thing? i can’t control it.. i can’t control myself. i’m only holding myself back.
I squeeze my eyes shut as I try to imagine everything else but this, anyone but her, anyplace but here. I walk away with the little composure I manage to keep left. I smile, laugh, joke, and all the while feel like stone, I realize noone will notice the fakeness. Because the only one who could notice that was her.
Affection withheld is a punishment that parents use in an effort to make their kids work for love. They want children to know that love is indeed conditional, not the flowery unconditional affection immortalized on mother’s day cards.
he withheld valuable information. this was in the form of cars, withheld for personal gain. mostly yellow these cars showed the type of man he was. yellow, a coward.
She has withheld herself from breathing
thinking about tomorow
because it’s no future without you
She has withheld herself from others
in prayer that you will find her
because she’s still here
right were you left me
The information was withheld from almost all the parties which it applied to. This was a criminal offense and the prosecution was doing their best to ensure Mr. Marco ended up in prison.
there’s a map etched out, stashed in a drawer, buried beneath sheets and sheets of long-winded longing. it is a map of a perfect world, where my hand meets yours in a familiar pattern. our gazes often cross paths, and we can express in seconds what it takes a lifetime to understand.
this map is the key to a perfect life.
its placement is not a mistake, as i know my own place in this world. while my fingers twitch, restless, they know that yours are not their match; i know we do not fit, as our bodies are two extremes. our hands do not create a seamless eternity, and there is no comfort when you hold my stare. gravity reminds me of where it is i am placed, and by some odd chance, i’ve been allowed to at least look upon the ideal.
i feel that affection was withheld from in my childhood lowering my self esteem and i have tried to overcome this.
feelings that might hurt me if shown to other people. if i’m withheld in things, both physical and mental as well as emotional, it leaves less out there to be hurt. no one can hold me to things that are withheld.
That which the old man had withheld from the boy since his early days was all revealed to him in one swift vengeful silence. It gripped the boy with burning hands and threw him to the ground.
she finally divulged
all the she had withheld from him
he was drowning
he was trying to cling on to the kitchen chair for dear life as his trembling fingers gave way
she had flooded the room with her confessions
filling the whole kitchen with a tumultuous tidal of reveal
nothing could escape this wave’s crashing blows
“he withheld it from me – so no, i was not aware of the situation.” my attorney rolled his eyes at me, fussed with papers on his desk and pursed his lips
It was almost nighttime, she wouldn’t talk to me at all. She turned away, and I quickly learned to hate the red wool of her scarf. She knew how to taunt me, but this time she was serious. The only illumination was the streetlamp above us. We were both silent.
As he ran at me, I withheld all emotion. I closed my eyes and centered my breathing, not even anticipating the collision as his body slammed into mine. I felt him as he shoved me to the floor, yes, but not really. All was at peace in my mind as I slowly lost conciousness under his fists. I’m sure I cried out, positive of it, but it was not me. I am not weak like him, I can control myself. It was my body telling him I’d had enough, even if my brain was too stubborn to admit it. Finally, the terror was over, and he left. I sat, holding in the salty tears until they could withstand no more, running down my face and stinging the raw, mangled flesh he’d left me with.
All my hatred and resentment towards you, my friend, which had seemed so easy to contain a few weeks ago, is now bubbling over, and I fear for the day when it can be withheld no longer.
I withheld my love for you. I withheld it because I was scared. Because I had loved. Because I had lost. Because I had hurt. But I don’t want to withhold anymore. I want to give you all the love I have to give. And more. So I can be held. With. You.
That’s pretty simple. To keep from… I did that last night. I couldn’t tell the girl of my dreams how I really felt about her. I pussyfooted around it… in the worst way possible.
That barrier. That cold stone barrier that loomed over her and covered the all four directions that she could ever face. It was that barrier that withheld her from her dreams, her ambitions, her goals and her life. When would she ever break free?
I’m always withheld from the things I want to do. I’m always told I should focus on other “more important things” and it bothers me. I will always be insecure and lack confidence because I’ve always been told my ideas were not good enough.
omgosh im trying to look for a tatoo word i hope this helps me find one. dont think ill be using withheld on my inner lip though. next word please?
there is nothing withheld from us as children of God. We withhold from eachother; time, patience, love, devotion, but we are given all of these thi
Your name has been withheld from consideration because you are no longer living according to our records. If you believe this to be incorrect please contact your superiors.
i dont really know what it is or means but i think it means to hold something in place or something like that
You know how it felt
when you withheld
that kiss from me
electric
i wanted to hurt you
but you would
like that too
it’s becoming
more difficult
to hate you
but getting to
that point is exciting
A million butterflies
are withheld
in my chest,
begging to be let free
the cage opening
as
poems,
songs,
paintings,
art
float into the endless blue sky.
the action forgot,
nothing else,
there is ice on the road,
buses shut near two days,
in quick, warm cheap whiskey,
all forgot how to walk,
shuddering on my
shoulder
There’s so much, isn’t there. So much I don’t admit to, so much that will never, can never leave my mouth. But that’s okay, for now it’s okay. it’s safe and secure and it only hurts a little. I can deal with that.
She looked away from me.
She didn’t care that I wanted to know.
Stealing burden for herself.
She is not brave, only naive.
Sometime I feel like I’m a bit withheld. Shaped into a certain human-like mold, baked in the oven of my medium suburban hometown. I think this until I see those who don’t fit that mold. They make me realize.
He didn’t want to hold it all in. To withhold everything he wanted to say would not have been right. But he couldn’t tell her. At least, not until after she let go of his throat.
i feel one way but I won’t ever express it. when you’re next to me you’ll never know how the feelings inside me are rioting. all i want is you to touch me…you’ll never know. and I’ll never let you know.
NO. This is TOO hard. I can’t write about this! I’ll never be a good writer!
The purring cat withheld her paw once she saw the carry cage that takes her to the vet. She knew the smell. Withdrawing to a hiding haunt she knew the human couldn’t get to she curled up in a little furry ball of ginger and with her wide eyes refused to move until it appeared safe to put a paw out into the hallway.
held back. crying. tears rolling down your face as the chains bind you in a dark, dank dungeon. No freedom or creativity allowed. Darkness and pain. There could be hope…
“I-I have withheld information from you.” Her violet eyes hide nothing. “For five years of ignorant bliss on your part.”
I’m always held back from my potential. No one ever lets any of my ideas shine. They don’t think they will work. They don’t think they will succeed. They don’t think they will solve anything. But I’ll show you world, that you are wrong.
She withheld from me what was possibly the one thing I only ever needed. I didn’t even realize it had been missing until now. “Please,” I pleaded, my voice quivering. In that moment, I allowed myself to hope. It was for nothing.
She smiled at me, at my plea. She walked away with my happiness.
i was withheld by my own self because of my own incompetence. i couldn’t handle this freedom. there’s too much. who thought that that could be such a bad thing? i can’t control it.. i can’t control myself. i’m only holding myself back.
“TAKE IT!”, I screamed. “I hate you.. I hate you..” she sobbed.
This was definitely some cheesy overdramatized drama. All that had been withheld did definitely not cause this devastation.
“I never thought… you would..you would…” She looked up with teary, sorrowful onyx eyes.
“…eat my chocolate macadamia nut cookie.”
To whom it may concern:
I am out of my mind, for all subtle thoughts that contain any common sense are withheld from my brain today.
Sincerely, the insane and the helpless.
I squeeze my eyes shut as I try to imagine everything else but this, anyone but her, anyplace but here. I walk away with the little composure I manage to keep left. I smile, laugh, joke, and all the while feel like stone, I realize noone will notice the fakeness. Because the only one who could notice that was her.
Don’t really know what that means, I’m Norwegian and stupid
Affection withheld is a punishment that parents use in an effort to make their kids work for love. They want children to know that love is indeed conditional, not the flowery unconditional affection immortalized on mother’s day cards.