Aseer
tylerknott:

Typewriter Series #842 by Tyler Knott Gregson
*Pre-Order my book, Chasers of the Light, and donate $1 to @TWLOHA and get a free book plate signed by me :)  Click the link in my bio, or go here:  tylerknott.com/chasers*

tylerknott:

Typewriter Series #842 by Tyler Knott Gregson

*Pre-Order my book, Chasers of the Light, and donate $1 to @TWLOHA and get a free book plate signed by me :)  Click the link in my bio, or go here:  tylerknott.com/chasers*

Relationships take time. They are days and nights and weeks. They are stretched and worked and kneaded into something you never imagined they could be. But when they are over, the end comes so quickly you barely have time to breathe, to blink. They are minutes and seconds, and one moment you have everything and the next you have nothing. So here’s my question: when you lose the most important person to you in the entire world, where is all the love—love you never even knew you were capable of—supposed to go?

Ted Michael, Crash Test Love (via fables-of-the-reconstruction)

Into yourself is where it has to go.

(via ms-woodsworld)

agentlemansmusings:

Pieces
She knelt, poised and quiet, Framed in the dying light of day, The crash of the waves her heartbeat The gentle breeze her breath, And behind her smiling eyes  Were the unfathomable depths of the ocean.  Her capacity for love was limitless, But torn and broken she has been.  Cast aside and discarded, She struggled to put herself back together. Time and time and time again She gave and she gave, And they took and they took, Never realizing the pain they inflicted.  And still she gave. And still she loved.  Each time picking up her fragile pieces, Each time harder than the last.  Until the day he saw her, Framed against the setting sun, Hair tousled, tears staining her beautiful cheeks.  He walked to her,  Kneeling beside her As she gathered all the tiny fragments, And began to help pick them up.  No words were spoken, As none were needed.  The pieces collected, he took her hand, Helping her to rise.  He reached up and delicately wiped tears from her eyes and told her That no longer would she need to rebuild herself.  No longer would she have to cry.  Because he would not break her.  And he would not take from her.  He would help piece her together one last time, And guard her forever.  No one would hurt her again.  She would be free to give her love, And be the radiant spirit she was meant to be.  He would protect her fragile heart, Keeping her safe from the world.
© A Gentleman’s Musings 2013

agentlemansmusings:

Pieces

She knelt, poised and quiet,
Framed in the dying light of day,
The crash of the waves her heartbeat
The gentle breeze her breath,
And behind her smiling eyes
Were the unfathomable depths of the ocean.
Her capacity for love was limitless,
But torn and broken she has been.
Cast aside and discarded,
She struggled to put herself back together.
Time and time and time again
She gave and she gave,
And they took and they took,
Never realizing the pain they inflicted.
And still she gave.
And still she loved.
Each time picking up her fragile pieces,
Each time harder than the last.
Until the day he saw her,
Framed against the setting sun,
Hair tousled, tears staining her beautiful cheeks.
He walked to her,
Kneeling beside her
As she gathered all the tiny fragments,
And began to help pick them up.
No words were spoken,
As none were needed.
The pieces collected, he took her hand,
Helping her to rise.
He reached up and delicately wiped tears from her eyes and told her
That no longer would she need to rebuild herself.
No longer would she have to cry.
Because he would not break her.
And he would not take from her.
He would help piece her together one last time,
And guard her forever.
No one would hurt her again.
She would be free to give her love,
And be the radiant spirit she was meant to be.
He would protect her fragile heart,
Keeping her safe from the world.

© A Gentleman’s Musings 2013

messengermaher:

this hot woman
has a monster
hiding inside her shell
she bewitched me
with her wicked spell
pumping fresh blood
to my lifeless veins


walking all the way
erected with a loaded gun
thinking of her Greatness
with zillion dark ideas
flooding my senses
with my filthy Animalistic…

Anaïs, I don’t know how to tell you what I feel. I live in perpetual expectancy. You come and the time slips away in a dream. It is only when you go that I realize completely your presence. And then it is too late. You numb me.
Henry Miller to Anaïs Nin (via kushandwizdom)
clouduh:

-
s-un-rise:

indie

s-un-rise:

indie