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Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "she wove the world together with her mind and trapped me"

I told her I could read her mind, but she didn't believe me. I could tell.
She opened her eyes, looked at a world made entirely of white light
She asked me to read her a poem
She gets caught in the little world beneath her sheets
i gave her my heart. she gave me a pen.
I would have tried, but Charlotte kept Charlotte in the world of Charlotte and she barely heard me
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
I don't like her because she won't like me
The portion of her face she allows me to see
she doesn't write, doesn't tell you stories, but somehow it's her words that spring to mind at those crucial, terrifying moments, and for that you are eternally grateful
Because I still love her, because I know she still loves me.
Susan Goldman, who has cervical cancer, is partly thankful as she braces herself but changes her mind as she's sprayed with burning jet fuel.
She asked me if I loved her and I showed her the tattoo
She pulled the "I love you" on me
The clockwork of her mind is unravelling, bits and pieces coarse with emotion
I don't mind if you forget me
She who makes the Moon the Moon and, whenever she is full, sets the dogs to howling all night long, and me with them.
I don't think she even knows that I make her smile
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
Forgive me for being afraid of the world
She was watching me and I didn’t know it.
She handed me my first sharpened pencil.
She approached me with some vague line
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
Sometimes the apathy she saw made her want to curl up and cry
She picked herself up, wiping away at her dignity
She always confused her greys with white.
I would have attempted to draw her if she had stayed that way.
Don't tell me about her
She does not take her trip. She does not shout out loud.
The whole world is lying to me
Two condoms, she makes me wear
Me Against the World
There is nothing growing here, in the space between she and me
Let me not to the marriage of true minds /Admit impediments
All of this strung together inside me on a delicate electric web.
She was an intellectual prostitute, seducing me with profound truisms
She just looks at me
She was inside the music, with her eyes closed
She was never mine. I always shared her.
she had already found her party
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
if you fear spells, look away when she decides to share her hair with the wind.
the way she wears her weary
serene. She sips her tea
When I look into her eyes, I no longer care about what the world thinks. This is what it feels like to be alive.
She keeps her lies everywhere
She said her father died of cancer in the sixties
Now she's in my doorway, accusing me with her soft breasts and long legs, strong hips.
she left her handwriting all over the calendar
Say that turning a teenage girl to stone is depriving the world of her
What an artist the world is losing in me!
What in the world has come over me
Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
She told me I looked like a Henry, and this is how she would know me
She only wants me for sex
She is stupidly keeping herself a secret, when I know she has sparkly things to show me
She said she loved me
World, take care of me. You don't owe it to me, but I don't know any better.
I put my head down and hoped to God she wasn't looking at me
she, he, and me
you and me against the world
Is it fair for him to love me when she craves his touch?
Robert Lionel Fanthorpe fills up the word count in a science fiction novel: she brushed her teeth
Everybody with a functioning mind agrees with me; this is the definition of a functioning mind
She kills me
Feminism, as influenced by the world around me
He touched her once and she turned into a golden creature. He never touched her again.
her arms around me
She who leaves men as flaming wrecks in the ditch on the side of the road in her wake, yea, even submarines
She always was devious in her beauty
At night, her eyes closed, she would
She is so beautiful, I gave up Nihilism for her
Is this the world of her heart?
And she, with her beautiful words and such a fire burning inside
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
When she sleeps, is she not moving her legs aside for an unknown garrison?
A dose of mystery slipped into her cocktail while she was in the ladies' room
Some nights, alone, he thinks of her, and some nights, alone, she thinks of him
You can play with my ex-girlfriend, but treat her like the lady that she is.
A girl I know had her jaw wired shut, and she vomited.
She said, while hugging a bowl of turnips close to her bosom
I haven't seen her in a month. She is still beautiful.
I remember when it was me who made her skin flush
She disappeared as if he had only dreamed her
let her take me, feed on me, devour me
I remember when it was me who made her toilet flush
She Called in Her Soul to Come and See
She nicknamed her vagina "Crusty"
She thought about giving him her heart
Her lack of response opened a gate through which my mind started to wander, into a wilderness where the shadows all had teeth...
You put a hand on her hip, she permits it.
When she woke up, her hands were still dreaming
She ties regrets around her fingers like forget-me-knots
She misses me
She kissed me gently, just once, then walked away crying
She told me to say that
That one makes me scream, she said
She Loves Me
You couldn't make me give it up to cheapening words for all the empathy and adulation in the world
She wakes me up by tickling my feet
They blew up the world, but what really pisses me off
She only wants me for tech support
She loved me for my maths
She Fucks Me
Her sleeves ride up on her arms when she moves
The stars were bright that night she left me forever
I remember when it was me who made you want to take over the world and enslave humanity
She may be pretty and have more money than me but she doesn't write songs about you.
Bathe her and bring her to me
she spent the night gingerly peeling me off the moon.
She loves me, she loves me not
She left me on the boardwalk with my head held in my hands.
MET ME IN THE TRAP (user)
She said she loved me. The knife came down.
She found her bliss between the headphones, and pursed her lips.
She doesn't need me anymore
I said I was sorry. Then she looked at me.
Her perception of how gorgeous she is will be evident in her lack of movement during sex
The world's geek population makes me weep with despair and frustration
She writes notes to me, to keep me in check
I don't tell her these things, and she doesn't ask
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
I come home, she lifted up her wings. I guess that this must be the place.
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
She plugs her tears in the way you'd keep a dam from breaking
To better imagine the limits of the dried-up Martian sea, little Tatiana found it helpful to shape in her mind a great sinuous contour binding each sad, stranded boat to its neighbor
Veronica loves manipulating her vagina until she explodes
She bruised her knee. This is how we met.
She wears her failed relationships like a shield
Her photography captured little beautifuls and me
Anna and her Mother: spinning me in circles
She sat in virginal white, eyes closed, with only her face in rose
She is the queen of accidental magic. Her used kleenexes, taken by the wind, become soulful ghosts.
The sun was caught playing unashamedly in her auburn hair, setting our world on fire with giddiness
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
She Will Have Her Way
She Will Have Her Way: The Songs Of Tim & Neil Finn
does she need to touch her own face to know?
She flies with her own wings
why she makes her wishes at 7:07
It happened to everyone else; she swore it wouldn't to her
She was the prettiest, loveliest cat at the ball and she had upon her fine gilded whiskers.
She didn't wave goodbye so much as slightly raise her hand
her hate keeps me warm. her shadows keep me guessing.
They walk around her like she is in danger of breaking
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
What's she gonna look like with a chimney on her?
She is the sea. Above her, he is thunder.
The World I Made for Her
She is willing to attempt to retrieve the data. Go with her.
World In Her Eyes
Her grief is still too young to behave itself, so she never lets it out
She practices her speech
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
she lit her thumb on fire
I got the feeling the Fairy Council was mad at me when the president knocked over her coffee to get a better grip on my neck
I asked her not to forget me
To Her Mind
She, the Last Leviathan. She, the Station Agent. Chin on her Palm, she Watches Every Departure.
She knows no truth except her own.
she gave her heart to a falling star
The movie in her mind
She is a night of dark trees, but he who is not afraid of her darkness will find banks full of roses under her cypresses
She was a committed romantic and an anarcha-feminist. This was hard for her because it meant she couldn't blow up beautiful buildings.
She does not rustle but her flesh has the moonlit shade of a silver birch
She smokes. It wraps around her wrists and clings to her neck.
She calls him Sugarcane. He calls her Hurricane.
while she sleeps, i write myself into her life
Would you like to penetrate her shell, insinuating yourself among the pages of the books she is reading?
Excuse me, may I blow your mind?
Would you mind never speaking to me again?
The world is her sketchbook
I gave her my heart, she tore it apart, and who gives a fart.
She told me I'd make a good Satan
She dumped me when she found out I'd been faking my Scottish accent
you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
I don't want to set the world on fire. I just want to start a flame in her heart.
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.
She crashed her car trying to avoid a butterfly
She opened her eyes and spoke in a very normal voice, just as if she were sane

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