@nimanistillconfused-blog / nimanistillconfused-blog.tumblr.com
your words take me back to days when lads barely off their milk need to feel shaken once their young eyes lay upon fair maiden when a nervous gaze their sole protection leaves them forsaken and fazed stripped of fear, replaced with nothing but sheer and virgin faith
your grace a daily demon of...
Though I can never quite remember I can never quite forget The spectres of my past Still haunt me yet Like the remnents of a dream Half faded in the light A constant quiet presence In the shadows of the night I try to escape into the tunnels of my head Hide inside the kingdom Under covers of my bed I'll be the dreamer And you'll be the artist My imagination Your painted over canvas You might fill it with your dreams But you can not ignore The faint scars that still remain of what was there before You could be the soul To my body and heart And I'll be the silent witness To your stolen art.
-Lowri-Ann Tanner
Danny was an Onion Seller He was a rather chipper feller One day he lost his onion cart The 'ack of onions broke his heart...
And because of it, I now both love and hate John Green for making me read it ;_;
La fuite de la lune - Oscar Wilde (via tinelucas)
For all the Perks Of Being A Wallflower and Looking For Alaska lovers out there. This is another good one.
“On the Inside,” David Levithan, The Realm of Possibility (via typesetjez)
There was a boy named Henry. He lived inside a cage. And when the fairies let him out He was in an awful rage He vowed that he would get revenge but he never really did whenever he saw his captors come He simply ran and hid. There was a boy named Henry He wasn't even real He just exists inside my head And I don't know how to feel Last night I had a dream And in it, Henry said; You need to get some other friends Find other pals instead Find other guys to "hang with" Ones that aren't just in your mind But made up mates are easy Real friends are hard to find I haven't seen him since And it makes me rather sad The memory of him makes me wince And then I feel quite bad But now I see a (metaphorical) lightbulb turn on above my head I now see it was I who was trapped Like butter between bread Stuck within reality The realm of possibility And now that he is gone, I see; It was Henry who was truly free.
She was the shadow in the dark With blood red lips and haunted eyes A shining star that lost it's spark A diamond in disguise She was the whisper in your heart The darkness of your dreams They call her Necrobella The Phantom Faerie Queen She was the voice inside your head Wicked whispers scar your mind Dutiful messenger of the dead Beautiful ghost of words unsaid She was the whisper in your heart The darkness of your dreams They call her Necrobella The Phantom Faerie Queen
She is the half forgotten dream Waking wonders fade with the light For nothing's ever as it seems When morning springs From the ashes of night...
I was wondering today if my dog (Bertie) may... be a little bit gay. I heard a small sound and when I turned around... Who was sat on the ground? But a gay dog called Freddie. Who my dog (Bertie) always seems to be... a little too pleased to see I wonder why that could be? I was wondering today if my dog (Bertie) may... be a little bit gay?
