Follow Your Passion: A Seamless Tumblr Journey
Your my something pretty , only thing is I lost you
pffft to a guy yckkkk ,warghhhh 🙃
Whatever secret scrap book , I really should be ova you like forever ago 😅
tumblr is my scrapbook, i find something pretty i want to look at later and i glue it to a page . like yesssss you are my little memory forever to look at lovingly
Remember when we first met I read you a scene from my head .. you were that Lilie, a closed of bud ready to bloom 🌷 I love that your still blooming an I was such a large part in being that very lake that helped you start opening..
— Adonis, ‘Body’
My own Hands ,hers where never mine
Her hands no longer
With mine perfectly entwine
Hands no longer
Run through my hair
Hands no longer
At a constant forever wacking mine away 😏
Hands no longer
ever so gently glide down my chest
Her hands
now lay in a man's ..
thats as far as this poem goes ,
Just not Her hands 😕 💔
When the artist on Insta that drew the art of your inspired tattoo, shares his work wich now happens to be on your arm 🖤 winning
How many pieces in this Puzzle 🖤
Life's like a puzzle, keep the pieces together I might just figure it out ..
If I could just stop loosing each peice
Peices most difficult to find ,my heart my mind
my pride
my joy
my smile
I loose ,my temper
Lost my soul an life goals
my love, surely left
what peices lay left ?
I don't wont to hide these peices brushed aside 🖤
Just a mum an her daughters dog
Like a puzzle piece ... tries to gently place himself both around my body an heart knowing his not quit the fit ,yet will ever so gently ease the pain of not having so
When you left me.. you replaced me in an instant like I was a no one.
You left when someone close to me had passed away.
I was left not only grieving a death of a loved one, but now a death of a relationship.
You looked me in the eyes and said I’m just like everyone else.
It seemed all along I fought for our relationship but you didn’t do the same.
You were always on my mind but I wasn’t on yours.
And even now…. You still are.
I need to get you out my head.
Bana anlatdıkların, gösterdiklerin, hissetdirdiklerin sadece bana özel kalmalıydı. Herkesleştirmemeliydin . . .
Left with a bleeding heart,
An undying urge to crawl back to you.
All the shirts left behind burning in the hearth.
Was it really us that matter?
Or the ego you bring to the table?
All those flowers left at the doorstep,
I'll decorate your grave with them,
If not on your arrogance I will bury.
Don't beg for me in the evening,
When in morning you'll leave again,
Forget all the promises made,
Under the influence of my love.
You like to see me cry,
I like to see you bleed.
Your words, my feelings
My knife, your heart
A tragedy I will happily write
If you promise a last dance
Before we burn this house called love.