This is what dreams are made of. Thank you, my friend.

This is what dreams are made of. Thank you, my friend.

You have the right to save yourself.


real nostalgia.

all the songs that got you through your seventh grade emo phase.


I was an adult for all of these…

(via losing-always-matters)

Anonymous said: How old are you?

Old souls in young bodies can hear their hearts break before their bones do.

Come off anon, and I’ll tell you.


Changes in season
and changes of reason
render the wind helpless and bound.
The only breath that blows
comes from the nightingale’s song
as the wind’s savior
is nowhere to be found.

No funeral, no viewing, no nothing.

Free to a good home: Me.


Magnetic poetry while waiting for dinner.


Magnetic poetry while waiting for dinner.

Hidden Messages

I used to write poetry and prose about you because you left me breathless. I used to write all the stanzas and verses that came close to describing what you did to me internally. It was the only way that I believed I could express what was hidden beneath my skin.

That was before I was able to run my lips across your skin, breathing words upon your flesh as I went, and now the poetry is there, and there are volumes worth waiting to be revisited and read again and again.

Haiku #1

Nothing made her sigh
quite like the breathing of him
sleeping in her arms.

Starry Night Wishes

The best thing a man can wear is the love of someone beautiful, and I wish I was wearing nothing but you.

It’s true, days can seem long and nights, even longer but what always remains the same is that there is a starry night somewhere, and so I will wish throughout the day on stars I cannot see, and at night I will pick and choose the brightest ones to wish on, hoping they bring you to me.



When you wrapped your arms around me from behind,
kissed my neck and sighed sweetly in my ear, "hey baby,"

I thought I loved you then. I thought that that was love,
and maybe, for you, it was. But now, as I sit staring

at the last photograph we ever took together, studying
your expression for…


Your heart beat longer than mine.

– A Six Word Story by The Incomplete

I would write poetry upon your skin
just to hear them read back to me
with your lips.


Laugh in the moment.
Laugh at the thought.
Laugh when your sad,
all is not lost.

Live life to its fullest.
Live full of love.
Live through all the pain,
you will rise above.

Breathe for tomorrow.
Breathe for today.
Breathe for the moments
that take your breath away.