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Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "She Never Told Me She Was a Mime"

you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
She told me I looked like a Henry, and this is how she would know me
She was watching me and I didn’t know it.
She told me she remembers three things about me
I told her I could read her mind, but she didn't believe me. I could tell.
Tell him, she told me
I never told you she stole my heart
She told me she wouldn't
She told me I'd make a good Satan
She told me to say that
I said I was sorry. Then she looked at me.
I was throwing around useless proverbs when all she needed was to be held and told that she was beautiful
She was an intellectual prostitute, seducing me with profound truisms
She was never mine. I always shared her.
He touched her once and she turned into a golden creature. He never touched her again.
She was so tall, and I was so in love
There is nothing growing here, in the space between she and me
She was a committed romantic and an anarcha-feminist. This was hard for her because it meant she couldn't blow up beautiful buildings.
Besides the part where she was the only one
The rock under my foot that told me I was real when I was an adult
She was steady
Is it fair for him to love me when she craves his touch?
Somebody told me a story. It was pretty but boring. It was Saturday night, my stories usually end up that way.
She sang of fantastic green islands, and sparkling fish, never telling that she haunted the waters
The girl didn't know if she was loved until he said yes.
Jessica, too tall but still lovely, was not sure she would or should drop the whale
Two condoms, she makes me wear
She hopes I'm cursed forever to sleep on a twin size mattress, never graduating up in size to add a lover.
She handed me my first sharpened pencil.
She is still undoing me.
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
The flowers smiled, but she was gone
She just looks at me
She was too beautiful to be human
she was waylaid by an octopus
I don't like her because she won't like me
She is stupidly keeping herself a secret, when I know she has sparkly things to show me
She loves me, she loves me not
She Fucks Me
Fast-talking career gal who thought she was one of the boys
She was a Surrealist Woman, She was like a Figure in a Dream
The Abridged Edition: She was to one side, he was to the other, an untested bridge between them
She said she loved me. The knife came down.
My mother loves me. She uses the good sandwich bags.
And when she came back she was nobody's wife
She was the prettiest, loveliest cat at the ball and she had upon her fine gilded whiskers.
She was the seed of a strange tomorrow
He was an ant on an ill-defined mission. She was the trapdoor spider of love.
This is the first time she's texted me since the morning she left.
She was feminine in the most displaced sense I had ever seen, a known quality refracted through stained glass windows.
that's where she lost me as I began imagining my family amongst blood-dripped hedges
She Was 18, It Was Summer
She was cilantro, jalepeno, habanero. She was the hot plate you must not touch.
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
She dumped me when she found out I'd been faking my Scottish accent
She was very beautiful. Y'know?
That one makes me scream, she said
She said she loved me
She misses me
In a quiet grove of pines under a frosty sky, he helped her out of the sack. She wore severe white hospital pajamas and was beautiful.
When she was new, she rolled around the sky like a black umbrella blown by the wind
For a lawyer she was surprisingly like a child. Sometimes.
She only wants me for sex
When I was little my mother told me not to sit close to the T.V., so when I was six I did.
The portion of her face she allows me to see
She wakes me up by tickling my feet
She who makes the Moon the Moon and, whenever she is full, sets the dogs to howling all night long, and me with them.
My brother never told me not to smoke. He showed me.
She was cilantro, jalapeño, habanero. She was the hot plate you must not touch.
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
She probably thought your first language was English; your real first language was Joyce
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
she, he, and me
I put my head down and hoped to God she wasn't looking at me
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
She doesn't need me anymore
She's smarter than me but she's also more quiet, therefore she has no personality which makes me feel better
Outside the train station she was the only person wearing an Orange raincoat and a look of surprise
A dose of mystery slipped into her cocktail while she was in the ladies' room
She was inside the music, with her eyes closed
The cactus that told me my mom was asleep
She was free
She knew what she was doing
She was coming out as he was going in.
She taught me some moves, including stealthy exits.
She is lobbing rainbows at me from across the room and I am swallowing them like fear.
She didn't know what outside was anymore.
My Mother She Killed Me, My Father He Ate Me
She didn't write like Emily Dickinson, but she did live in a house overlooking a cemetery, and I guess he thought that was important.
She asked me if I loved her and I showed her the tattoo
She found me on public transportation
Because, perhaps she was cold
she was once a stealthy ghostship in the fog, now she shines wherever she walks
She Speaks to Me
texting, she tells me anarchy will remain an important ideology
She stopped me in the city. A lost soul gambling on random encounters.
She Gave Sweet Love To Me
He Never Told Me My Eyes Were Like Diamonds
She hit me like thunder, and I had to lie down until I could breathe again
She tells me she drives a truck.
"He was a terrible man," she sobbed, between bites of alimony
When that cow would walk it was like she was dancing
She took a California tilt and never came back.
She writes notes to me, to keep me in check
She started to fall, and knew she would never come back
She Loves Me
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
She was locked in time
To a girl who thought she was moving away
She kissed me gently, just once, then walked away crying
She moved so easily all I could think of was sunlight
She could hit four octaves above high-C, but she never performed in public
She was thinking of a boy in California who had a couch and a job
What the hell was she thinking?
She was buttery. She was asking for it. She was delicious. Let's all give in.
I would have tried, but Charlotte kept Charlotte in the world of Charlotte and she barely heard me
If you told me this never happened
She was so pleased to learn that she was right
She only wants me for tech support
She pulled the "I love you" on me
piano outside in the snow. and she was spinning
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
When she was bad
Her grief is still too young to behave itself, so she never lets it out
He stretched out his arms but she was not there
She loved me for my maths
She dreamt she was a bulldozer, she dreamt she was alone in an empty field
I'm sorry I was speeding, officer, but I really have to get to the hospital
She always was all tea and oranges that came all the way from China
She may be pretty and have more money than me but she doesn't write songs about you.
She always was devious in her beauty
she spent the night gingerly peeling me off the moon.
She kills me
The House on the Island Where She Was Born
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
I was not made for love songs, and love songs will never be made for me.
Existentialism is that girlfriend who cheated on you. Postmodernism is who she was with.
I was tired. It was late. She was Russian.
She left me on the boardwalk with my head held in my hands.
someday, when she will think back upon the time when she was as yet undishonored
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
she looked at me then whispered, we are all made of stardust
she was just the dry smell of gasoline
She loved me for my brains not my body. It's what zombies do.
She had become a mutton for punishment and he was a wolf
She was pain and pleasure all at once, wrapped up in needles and Ramones T-shirts
She is and was
She was like a candle in the wind: unreliable
she seems bored with me after all this time
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
She Blinded Me With Science
He dreamt he was a bulldozer, she dreamt she was alone in an empty bed
She looks at me and she laughs
She cleaned up for me at least.
i gave her my heart. she gave me a pen.
The stars were bright that night she left me forever
She had never kissed someone so old.
She asked me to stop dreaming of death
everyone who ever told me i was pretty was lying.
She might not need me. But then again she might.
She approached me with some vague line
She asked me to read her a poem
She was the cutest necromancer I ever did see
She saved me from Hylas' fate
Because I still love her, because I know she still loves me.
I may never be queen, but you will never break me
New York City: What Nonna told me on Wednesday
You will know me by those colors, deep and bold, of the heart you never knew.
The First Lie Besovi Told Me
New York City: What Nonna told me on Sunday
Launch me into space, and I'll never need to come back
this is why you always leave me, this is why you'll never go
Sex and death have both spat me out like spoiled milk for the same reason. I was not afraid.
New York City: What Nonna told me on Thursday
New York City: What Nonna told me on Monday
New York City: What Jo told me
You never write, you never call, you never tell me what you learned about that mighty groaning noise
New York City: What Nonna told me on Saturday
one was giving me the eye but nothing came of it
bringing me back to when less was worth more
Chicago: What my Teacher told me
I really miss the woman who told me that people don't like me
video games never made me violent

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