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Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "she has your heart in her weak hands"

She Looks Good, but She Has an Ugly Heart
Her hand on my heart
She has a heap of hearts on a platter and she's not getting mine
I gave her my heart, she tore it apart, and who gives a fart.
When she woke up, her hands were still dreaming
You put a hand on her hip, she permits it.
i gave her my heart. she gave me a pen.
She thought about giving him her heart
she gave her heart to a falling star
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.
as she suddenly realizes that the Heart that she has been praying to did not send somebody... but is, instead, here.
She didn't wave goodbye so much as slightly raise her hand
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
She does not rustle but her flesh has the moonlit shade of a silver birch
And she, with her beautiful words and such a fire burning inside
She keeps her lies everywhere
The Hand of God in the Heart of the City
What's she gonna look like with a chimney on her?
She found her bliss between the headphones, and pursed her lips.
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
When she sleeps, is she not moving her legs aside for an unknown garrison?
The Dancefloor is our Mother. Her heart beats at 125 BPM.
Put your hand on my heart and feel it
I don't think she even knows that I make her smile
I come home, she lifted up her wings. I guess that this must be the place.
Her heart's too real to not have its own beat
The old hands you’ve baked around hers
She Called in Her Soul to Come and See
A girl I know had her jaw wired shut, and she vomited.
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
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 nicknamed her vagina "Crusty"
She is willing to attempt to retrieve the data. Go with her.
Cold hands, warm hearts. Handfasting in London, wertperch and grundoon together.
The Jackal: Episode One: A Hero Has Risen, And She Demands Worker's Comp
Her heart is in little tiny pieces that are going to blow away.
To her secret heart
you're waiting with your heart in hand
The Tree in the Yard has a Dark Red Heart
They walk around her like she is in danger of breaking
She bruised her knee. This is how we met.
licking at her broken heart
she left her handwriting all over the calendar
Veronica loves manipulating her vagina until she explodes
At night, her eyes closed, she would
She sat in virginal white, eyes closed, with only her face in rose
She said, while hugging a bowl of turnips close to her bosom
before the internet when teen had REAL relationship the boy could look at the girl and judge the diameter of her thorax with his feelers and determine whether the mating ritual could commence but NO MORE. evil woman use her computer sorcery
She is the sea. Above her, he is thunder.
She gets caught in the little world beneath her sheets
She asked me to read her a poem
if you fear spells, look away when she decides to share her hair with the wind.
Her sleeves ride up on her arms when she moves
She asked me if I loved her and I showed her the tattoo
The Heart Has its own Memory
She always confused her greys with white.
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
A woman has 30 ways of laughing, but only 1 way in which she cries.
Heart in Hand
Her hands on my back; slipping into sleep
The poems flow from the hand unbidden brand the hidden source is the watchful heart.
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed (e2poll)
By the way, she has a penis; just so you know.
she broke my heart
she wants to kill and break hearts
She's smarter than me but she's also more quiet, therefore she has no personality which makes me feel better
Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
I never told you she stole my heart
I don't like her because she won't like me
It happened to everyone else; she swore it wouldn't to her
She wears her failed relationships like a shield
serene. She sips her tea
I don't tell her these things, and she doesn't ask
Would you like to penetrate her shell, insinuating yourself among the pages of the books she is reading?
She has the biggest cock of any girl I know
The portion of her face she allows me to see
She is the queen of accidental magic. Her used kleenexes, taken by the wind, become soulful ghosts.
She who leaves men as flaming wrecks in the ditch on the side of the road in her wake, yea, even submarines
He touched her once and she turned into a golden creature. He never touched her again.
Sometimes the apathy she saw made her want to curl up and cry
She Will Have Her Way: The Songs Of Tim & Neil Finn
She practices her speech
she lit her thumb on fire
She picked herself up, wiping away at her dignity
while she sleeps, i write myself into her life
She was the prettiest, loveliest cat at the ball and she had upon her fine gilded whiskers.
She disappeared as if he had only dreamed her
I would have attempted to draw her if she had stayed that way.
She knows no truth except her own.
Because I still love her, because I know she still loves me.
She Will Have Her Way
She smokes. It wraps around her wrists and clings to her neck.
you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
She crashed her car trying to avoid a butterfly
She said her father died of cancer in the sixties
She, the Last Leviathan. She, the Station Agent. Chin on her Palm, she Watches Every Departure.
she had already found her party
he has her eyes
She has given up on shoes completely.
If a woman lactates honey, she probably has cooter bees
Your hands are in my hair, but my heart is in your teeth
She handed me my first sharpened pencil.
She has trouble acting normal
She left me on the boardwalk with my head held in my hands.
Hands cupped into a half circle, he bent foward to help her catch a light
This child has talent. She needs a better box of paints.
someone without tattoos clearly has a fear of pain, which means in the kitchen they are slow and useless, therefore the food is weak and empty
I'm sorry I was speeding, officer, but I really have to get to the hospital
His hand speaks a foreign language to her ribs.
My hands on her back; slipping into sleep
Double Handed Hearts
The mediator between the hands and the head must be the heart
Only her hands would give her away
Their hands prying at your heart
She will remember your heart when men are fairy tales in books written by rabbits
She breaks hearts almost as often as she breaks the speed of sound
Is this the world of her heart?
I dug my claws in her heart
She collected broken hearts
He breaks her heart on a daily basis
she left a little Java-shaped hole in my heart
My hands are connected to my heart
Nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
(she's a monster) she ate my heart
I haven't seen her in a month. She is still beautiful.
Robert Lionel Fanthorpe fills up the word count in a science fiction novel: she brushed her teeth
I don't want to set the world on fire. I just want to start a flame in her heart.
crystal eats her grilled cheese sandwiches with ketchup hearts
Her perception of how gorgeous she is will be evident in her lack of movement during sex
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
She was a committed romantic and an anarcha-feminist. This was hard for her because it meant she couldn't blow up beautiful buildings.
Her grief is still too young to behave itself, so she never lets it out
She still has my Borges book
She flies with her own wings
She ties regrets around her fingers like forget-me-knots
And her heart stopped beating.
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
Every beautiful woman has someone who is tired of her
She opened her eyes and spoke in a very normal voice, just as if she were sane
She is so beautiful, I gave up Nihilism for her
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
You can play with my ex-girlfriend, but treat her like the lady that she is.
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 was inside the music, with her eyes closed
She plugs her tears in the way you'd keep a dam from breaking
She does not take her trip. She does not shout out loud.
does she need to touch her own face to know?
She always was devious in her beauty
She was never mine. I always shared her.
She calls him Sugarcane. He calls her Hurricane.
The hardest breath she has
I told her I could read her mind, but she didn't believe me. I could tell.
How to test if your mother REALLY has eyes in the back of her head
why she makes her wishes at 7:07
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
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
She is stupidly keeping herself a secret, when I know she has sparkly things to show me
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
the way she wears her weary
She opened her eyes, looked at a world made entirely of white light
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
She has big eyes and a slightly cracked voice
This Hour Has 22 Minutes
Time Has Come Today
Yom Hashoah
Music Has the Right to Children
To One who has been Long in City Pent
Evolution has never been observed
He who has enough to eat does the hungry not believe
you are a comet when you streak close by the radios get weak
Everyone has an accent
Your hair has turned white
Autumn has come invisibly
Ok, this whole Mr. T thing has gone WAY too fucking far
911 has an automated response
September has such a feeling
Santa Has Snow Blindness

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