Poems, Prose, and Song

Thoughts, musings, hopes, dreams, sketches, voyages, adventures, of a lost and troubled mind.

[lelosaur]

With maturity comes stability in spirit. Spirit being emotionally, physically, mentally, ect. Indifference is not maturity. As much as it looks like stability, it’s simply an extreme in one direction. One day that tipping point reaches a limit and self realization of the true identity of their indifference can crush hearts and break spirits. Fight for what is meaningful. That builds maturity. Don’t run and bottle your heart up. It’ll break free.

[bob-belcher]

[island-delver-go]

[cherokeeghostwriter]

the absurdity of existence

[offwithherhead2]

Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.”

-Shakespeare, Macbeth

[tastefullyoffensive]

Spotted in London, England. (via elbuffaloo)

[battledfield-blog]

I sit before flowers hoping they will train me in the art of opening up I stand on mountain tops believing that avalanches will teach me to let go I know nothing but I am here to learn.

Shane Koyczan  (via thesoutherly)

[larmoyante]

She was free in her wildness. She was a wanderess, a drop of free water. She belonged to no man and to no city.

Roman Payne, The Wanderess (via thesoutherly)

[wefallfromgrace]

[tintinlontoc]

[enchantinglyricalballads]

walked into an unknown territory

the words you spoke left me shell-shocked and haunted 

lost in denial, willfully blind to the truth 

in the light of my mistakes 

i wanted to disappear

make myself small 

fold me into myself, smaller and smaller until i’m gone 

i’ve been holding my breath for the past few days 

a pendulum of pain swinging to extremes 

and i won’t cry in front of you, though i cry myself to sleep every night 

i talk to you in my head but they’re words unsaid 

i won’t hear your voice 

i’m slowly sinking into oblivion and i don’t know what to do 

sometimes i think it’s okay if i don’t make it out alive

that i’m too mentally unstable to make it out in one piece 

life isn’t for people like me 

my bones and flesh too easily broken

my wings are too easily clipped 

i still don’t understand who i am

i still don’t know what to do 

[andallshallbewell]

[unpoeticheartbreak]

She was the kind of pretty where her tongue dug into your lungs and stripped you of oxygen, where her hands could tear your heart out of your chest with one motion, where her kisses made you so weak you forgot you had knees, where her mind was an open passage to a new life, a better one. She was the kind of pretty where the ugliness of the world could never exist because her smile was too goddamn beautiful to let the bad parts in.

I want to be that kind of pretty (via unpoeticheartbreak)

[backshelfpoet]

Whatever we are, we belong together.

Leonard Nimoy, Warmed By Love (via soulsscrawl)

[wordsnquotes]

That’s how you know you love someone, I guess, when you can’t experience anything without wishing the other person were there to see it, too.

Kaui Hart Hemmings, The Descendants   (via drapetomania)

[megan-hansenn-deactivated201704]

One day you’ll wake up at 11:30 AM on a Sunday with the love of your life and you’ll make some coffee and pancakes and it’ll all be alright.

(via fxcked-mywayuptothetop)

[lydiateasedale-deactivated20221]

There’s a whole row of dead lovers under the bright flowers. The soil is fertile enough and everyone praises her, what green fingers she has! What a knack for giving new life in her beautiful garden, a rainbow of flowerbeds getting bigger by the day.

[azukilynn]

pink and purple / parody

crimson stained / epiphany

[bookquotesbook]

So we stood hand in hand, like two children, and there was peace in our hearts for all the dark things that surrounded us.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, The Sign of the Four (via bookquotesbook)