Findings:

Here's the stuff we found when you searched for "where is she? she's gone. they came for her."

every day she stands there, waiting. every day, she's gone when i get there.
Where have my wings gone? They are hidden, embarrassed to be seen.
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.
They walk around her like she is in danger of breaking
Where Have All the Flowers Gone?
Most of the men were disillusioned long before they met her
Her grief is still too young to behave itself, so she never lets it out
She crashed her car trying to avoid a butterfly
The bathroom's her bedroom, where the tears flow
She thought about giving him her heart
little pieces of her tragically poetic attempts at being loved that she was startlingly aware of, today
She who leaves men as flaming wrecks in the ditch on the side of the road in her wake, yea, even submarines
They left the streets stained with blood, and their howling could be heard long after they were gone
A girl I know had her jaw wired shut, and she vomited.
She makes sniffing sounds, and I don't know if she's snorting coke or weeping
She asked me if I loved her and I showed her the tattoo
What's she gonna look like with a chimney on her?
Don't tell her she's beautiful
She's Gone
I don't think she even knows that I make her smile
She'd move, breaking the magnetism between her chair and my desk
Some nights, alone, he thinks of her, and some nights, alone, she thinks of him
First They Came
I gave her my heart, she tore it apart, and who gives a fart.
She Came In Through The Bathroom Window
Where the stadium money came from
They had left, but her mascara kept running
I was wrong as a child, to think old people were stupid for asking me where the day had gone. Now I understand... we older people do not live.
I want them to go out as unseen as they came
Sometimes the apathy she saw made her want to curl up and cry
All the while he was talking she was thinking what his whiskers would feel like on the back of her neck
The envelope held fingernail parings and a note which read, "There are more where these came from"
She bruised her knee. This is how we met.
How They Came to Bunbury
They will love him long after he is gone.
She is the queen of accidental magic. Her used kleenexes, taken by the wind, become soulful ghosts.
She plugs her tears in the way you'd keep a dam from breaking
When she sleeps, is she not moving her legs aside for an unknown garrison?
Her raised middle finger came into focus
She is the sea. Above her, he is thunder.
she's so virginal in her bodily extortion
A dose of mystery slipped into her cocktail while she was in the ladies' room
She was inside the music, with her eyes closed
She said her father died of cancer in the sixties
Isn't this where we came in?
She nicknamed her vagina "Crusty"
She's a stallion, let her run
She is not a girl, she is a woman. No, wait, she's a girl.
If she really wanted to fit in, she'd get a smaller dog.
she gave her heart to a falling star
she likes to dance on the edge. it's all she's known and she won't change now
she lit a fire and now she's in my every thought
you never once told her how beautiful she was nor how much you truly loved her
her today and gone tomorrow
Where Have All the Catherines Gone?
She calls him Sugarcane. He calls her Hurricane.
She was a committed romantic and an anarcha-feminist. This was hard for her because it meant she couldn't blow up beautiful buildings.
Put That Thing Back Where it Came From or So Help Me
Her perception of how gorgeous she is will be evident in her lack of movement during sex
She always was all tea and oranges that came all the way from China
She Came and Went
She sat in virginal white, eyes closed, with only her face in rose
I come home, she lifted up her wings. I guess that this must be the place.
You can play with my ex-girlfriend, but treat her like the lady that she is.
You want to reassure her, but you don't know where to start
She flies with her own wings
I will love them all even after they are long gone
The portion of her face she allows me to see
She was never mine. I always shared her.
The emotion on her face was always the one that she was feeling in her heart
And she, with her beautiful words and such a fire burning inside
she had already found her party
Veronica loves manipulating her vagina until she explodes
He touched her once and she turned into a golden creature. He never touched her again.
i gave her my heart. she gave me a pen.
I told her I could read her mind, but she didn't believe me. I could tell.
She was the prettiest, loveliest cat at the ball and she had upon her fine gilded whiskers.
She's got Zelda Fitzgerald mercury in her veins
She picked herself up, wiping away at her dignity
why she makes her wishes at 7:07
She grew a little older, while he was telling her
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.
They came together so as to form one whole
She asked me to read her a poem
she's the reason the dust i finally leave will be better than the dust i came from
Her lack of response opened a gate through which my mind started to wander, into a wilderness where the shadows all had teeth...
She took a California tilt and never came back.
She smokes. It wraps around her wrists and clings to her neck.
She, the Last Leviathan. She, the Station Agent. Chin on her Palm, she Watches Every Departure.
She keeps her lies everywhere
I would have attempted to draw her if she had stayed that way.
She always confused her greys with white.
It was better before they came
She's found the hole in reality. She knows its depth.
She Came and Went Like Wind (A Selkie Story)
And when she came back she was nobody's wife
If she were an insect, she'd be a moth in search of a flame
Her sleeves ride up on her arms when she moves
She said she loved me. The knife came down.
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
They Came To America
She's smarter than me but she's also more quiet, therefore she has no personality which makes me feel better
She came through the glass door, untouched by the storm that raged outside.
This is the first time she's texted me since the morning she left.
Just because she's nice to you doesn't mean she wants to fuck you
I really came to understand that they were just real people who wanted to live real lives and be treated equally as opposed to, for example, wanting to destroy us.
And then they came for me, but the bridge would not ignite.
Where has the grace gone?
Where Have All the Giant Radioactive Lizards Gone?
Robert Lionel Fanthorpe fills up the word count in a science fiction novel: she brushed her teeth
Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
I Wonder Sometimes Where the Bluebirds Have Gone
I haven't seen her in a month. She is still beautiful.
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
She ties regrets around her fingers like forget-me-knots
She said, while hugging a bowl of turnips close to her bosom
it's a pity we only appreciate some once they're gone, when they can no longer defend themselves
Where have all the poets gone?
She wears her failed relationships like a shield
She found her bliss between the headphones, and pursed her lips.
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 does not rustle but her flesh has the moonlit shade of a silver birch
It happened to everyone else; she swore it wouldn't to her
I don't like her because she won't like me
Would you like to penetrate her shell, insinuating yourself among the pages of the books she is reading?
she left her handwriting all over the calendar
I don't tell her these things, and she doesn't ask
She is so beautiful, I gave up Nihilism for her
When she woke up, her hands were still dreaming
She opened her eyes and spoke in a very normal voice, just as if she were sane
this is where we all came to be
can you show me where this came from?
What do girls think about guys when they catch guys staring at their breasts, but the guy is actually trying to read her shirt?
The flowers smiled, but she was gone
At night, her eyes closed, she would
Slap Her... She's French
Where was her angel all those times the sky clouded over
serene. She sips her tea
it was just as if she held her breath for 82 years
To boldly go where no man has gone before
To boldly go where no one has gone before
does she need to touch her own face to know?
She does not take her trip. She does not shout out loud.
the way she wears her weary
She gets caught in the little world beneath her sheets
She Will Have Her Way: The Songs Of Tim & Neil Finn
She opened her eyes, looked at a world made entirely of white light
She always was devious in her beauty
Ask her if she's got an answer
She was most amazed by the obvious, like January and the fact that I could not possibly keep her.
Her self image was not the force field she imagined it to be
She didn't wave goodbye so much as slightly raise her hand
She was so quiet that nobody heard her
if you fear spells, look away when she decides to share her hair with the wind.
She Will Have Her Way
You put a hand on her hip, she permits it.
while she sleeps, i write myself into her life
She practices her speech
Where No Man Has Gone Before
And she's walking as if her feet hurt
what she's building now, it isn't much, but it's hers
Now she's in my doorway, accusing me with her soft breasts and long legs, strong hips.
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
Where have all the Merrymakers gone?
The kind who tells you she's bipolar just to make you trust her
Her innocence fell. She kicked at it some, frowned, and left it there because it was beautiful.
Where has the smoke gone?
She knows no truth except her own.
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.
She's beautiful in ways that make her seem fleeting
She disappeared as if he had only dreamed her
She Called in Her Soul to Come and See
Because I still love her, because I know she still loves me.
she lit her thumb on fire
She is willing to attempt to retrieve the data. Go with her.
Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?

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