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Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "She holds me in her arms and I cry"

I don't like her because she won't like me
Sometimes the apathy she saw made her want to curl up and cry
I told her I could read her mind, but she didn't believe me. I could tell.
She asked me to read her a poem
her arms around me
The portion of her face she allows me to see
She asked me if I loved her and I showed her the tattoo
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
i gave her my heart. she gave me a pen.
Because I still love her, because I know she still loves me.
When the Dancer Holds the Sun in Her Arms
Getting my blood drawn makes me cry
She Called in Her Soul to Come and See
He touched her once and she turned into a golden creature. He never touched her again.
it's beyond all of us, and it makes me hold your hand a little tighter
you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
why she makes her wishes at 7:07
the way she wears her weary
I saw her clothes piled on the floor, and I cried for her
She keeps her lies everywhere
She dumped me when she found out I'd been faking my Scottish accent
I would have attempted to draw her if she had stayed that way.
Would you like to penetrate her shell, insinuating yourself among the pages of the books she is reading?
They walk around her like she is in danger of breaking
She does not take her trip. She does not shout out loud.
She picked herself up, wiping away at her dignity
while she sleeps, i write myself into her life
She was inside the music, with her eyes closed
Robert Lionel Fanthorpe fills up the word count in a science fiction novel: she brushed her teeth
You touched me when I needed to be touched, and for that I will hold you in my heart forever
hold me tighter
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
She Fucks Me
She kissed me gently, just once, then walked away crying
Oh, Mexico, Now Don't You Cry For Me
Who would cry for me should I die tonight?
She bruised her knee. This is how we met.
I don't tell her these things, and she doesn't ask
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
She found her bliss between the headphones, and pursed her lips.
Cry me a river
she had already found her party
I don't think she even knows that I make her smile
she lit her thumb on fire
Take Her in Your Arms
if you fear spells, look away when she decides to share her hair with the wind.
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
You can get to my heart by making me cry
She nicknamed her vagina "Crusty"
I gave her my heart, she tore it apart, and who gives a fart.
she may hold life
She Who Holds the Sky
She crashed her car trying to avoid a butterfly
She, the Last Leviathan. She, the Station Agent. Chin on her Palm, she Watches Every Departure.
She pulled the "I love you" on me
She tries to hold the wind, stop it from crying
She told me I'd make a good Satan
I would have tried, but Charlotte kept Charlotte in the world of Charlotte and she barely heard me
She is stupidly keeping herself a secret, when I know she has sparkly things to show me
She said she loved me
God holds me
If you could see me cry
The girl who cried 'rape me'
I remember when it was me who made her skin flush
She said, while hugging a bowl of turnips close to her bosom
I don't believe in God or the soul but these machines can make me cry
The four-eyed girl could make me cry
Her grief is still too young to behave itself, so she never lets it out
Bathe her and bring her to me
What's she gonna look like with a chimney on her?
She is so beautiful, I gave up Nihilism for her
She opened her eyes and spoke in a very normal voice, just as if she were sane
She wears her failed relationships like a shield
I cried in his arms
I hide in the darkness of the cry that comes from her throat
Veronica loves manipulating her vagina until she explodes
Performing her communion with quick slashes up and down her arm
She plugs her tears in the way you'd keep a dam from breaking
The endless blue sky is not big enough to hold her memories, so it doesn't
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
She gets caught in the little world beneath her sheets
She opened her eyes, looked at a world made entirely of white light
At night, her eyes closed, she would
You put a hand on her hip, she permits it.
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.
When she sleeps, is she not moving her legs aside for an unknown garrison?
Don't tell me about her
She is the sea. Above her, he is thunder.
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
The Tesla Coil made me cry, but I got a free lunch out of it.
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 smokes. It wraps around her wrists and clings to her neck.
He stretched out his arms but she was not there
just hold me, and let me weep
For me to hold
she gave her heart to a falling star
Hold me closer and say you love me
I am hoping for a hell deep enough to hold me. I am hoping for no way out.
Hold me
She always confused her greys with white.
hold me to this
You taught me to drive at night in the rain, for this I will hold you in my heart forever
She approached me with some vague line
Hold Me Like You Need Somebody
I was put on hold for time to gnaw me raw.
She just looks at me
She Loves Me
She writes notes to me, to keep me in check
She told me to say that
She who makes the Moon the Moon and, whenever she is full, sets the dogs to howling all night long, and me with them.
That one makes me scream, she said
She misses me
Hold me, thrill me, kiss me, kill me
She knows no truth except her own.
The old man on the bench, for example, made her cry
you laugh and then you cry but you're still laughing but you miss her so damn much
alive she cried (user)
The smell of his cologne still makes me cry
Still she cried, and still the world pursues
He cries for me, all these years later. He'll never stop 'til I join him in the grave.
a light wind is enough to make me smile or cry
A woman has 30 ways of laughing, but only 1 way in which she cries.
Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
I remember when it was me who made her toilet flush
I haven't seen her in a month. She is still beautiful.
I cried when I wrote this song, sue me if I play too long
I would like for you to make your arms for me the way you make your bed for you
Her perception of how gorgeous she is will be evident in her lack of movement during sex
It happened to everyone else; she swore it wouldn't to her
She does not rustle but her flesh has the moonlit shade of a silver birch
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 flies with her own wings
She ties regrets around her fingers like forget-me-knots
When she woke up, her hands were still dreaming
She sat in virginal white, eyes closed, with only her face in rose
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.
You can play with my ex-girlfriend, but treat her like the lady that she is.
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
I come home, she lifted up her wings. I guess that this must be the place.
she left her handwriting all over the calendar
She calls him Sugarcane. He calls her Hurricane.
She thought about giving him her heart
waiting for his arms to fold like wings around her
Anna and her Mother: spinning me in circles
She always was devious in her beauty
does she need to touch her own face to know?
She who leaves men as flaming wrecks in the ditch on the side of the road in her wake, yea, even submarines
Her photography captured little beautifuls and me
She was never mine. I always shared her.
She Will Have Her Way: The Songs Of Tim & Neil Finn
Some nights, alone, he thinks of her, and some nights, alone, she thinks of him
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
her hate keeps me warm. her shadows keep me guessing.
She Will Have Her Way
And she, with her beautiful words and such a fire burning inside
She is the queen of accidental magic. Her used kleenexes, taken by the wind, become soulful ghosts.
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
knots and ribbons at the ends of her arms
She didn't wave goodbye so much as slightly raise her hand
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
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
let her take me, feed on me, devour me
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
A dose of mystery slipped into her cocktail while she was in the ladies' room
She is willing to attempt to retrieve the data. Go with her.
She practices her speech
She disappeared as if he had only dreamed her
Now she's in my doorway, accusing me with her soft breasts and long legs, strong hips.
She was the prettiest, loveliest cat at the ball and she had upon her fine gilded whiskers.
serene. She sips her tea
As if it were the arm of someone who'd pulled me back from speeding traffic.
She said her father died of cancer in the sixties
I asked her not to forget me
A girl I know had her jaw wired shut, and she vomited.
Gaily they went down in the lush field a treasure of valuables or specie or bullion lodged with a crust of bread into her coat of arms weaving currying the embroidering of silk in summer.
Trace a map along her arm

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