|winter is beautiful and makes me feel waaarm x]|
this may be because im wearing 5 jumpers
but thats not the point!
give them me. Give them me.give them me. by ~lunadoodle
i love your hands,
darting across your guitar like dark graceful spiders.
Getting Under YouMy heart seemed unreachable, strongGetting Under You by ~lunadoodle
To me at least
I thought my armour would hold out,
That my heart, once lost and broken, would be wise this time
But then i met you
Gently, carefully, you peeled away my protection, leaving my heart behind, healed and vunerable, like it hadnt been in years
I didn't even notice, until it was too late
Until i was so close to being completly and utterly in love with you, that it scared me
It was only then that i started taking my 'crush' for you you siriously
Only then did i realise how your laugh sounded, and how your eyes were gold in the sunlight
Only then did i notice that my heart felt lighter wh
Getting Over Youyou see that self respect you have?Getting Over You by ~lunadoodle
all those thoughts and feelings that made you feel beautiful, unique, interesting , worth anyones time?
Take every single one, and extract them from your mind, your brain, your soul, and throw them away.
You see the gaping pit left over in that pathetic bland thing you call a personality?
It needs to be filled.
Fill it with hatred, if not for the one who broke your heart, then for your feelings for them.
Even hatred for yourself will do.
Now, deep within the poison you have poured into your soul in sickening treacle thick waves, bury your heart.
Coat it in the hardening slime, and tak
our story.the ridges of her collarbone do strange things to my pulse.our story. by ~franfranfranlol
and i can't think evenly
i can't breath straight
the light shimmering from her skin is so
hypnotic, the way my mouth feels on her is so
i am hers.
i am the pawn to her queen
every hopeless move i make brings me closer
(to being lost) to being whatever i wish to be.
my nose ripples through the pages of the future
inhalation of ink
and absorbing the crisp, dead wood to let it whistle
through my imagination.
i trace my heartbeat across her reality
and try to make it fit.
we read between the lines, and kiss
in the pages of a broken lovesong. i throw