Sometimes I think people
are like books
tiny worlds
bursting at the seams
protected only
by a delicate cover.
You spend your life
reading
hoping to find
“the one”
whatever that means.
But then you find
something
it’s different
and it’s difficult to read
at first
but you keep reading
you read and you read
and you read and you read
because
the book is the most
delightful combination
of contrasting characters
alive and
funny and
laughing
brave and
strong and
protecting
romantic and
loving and
breathtaking.
You crave it the moment
you put it down
the book consumes you and
you consume it and
that’s when you
realise
you’ve never been more in love
in your life.
(Source: ilvadesoi)
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
God topples from the sky, hell’s fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan’s men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I fancied you’d return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
(Source: ilvadesoi)
He was the blue, shimmering moon
eclipsing her fiery, headstrong light.
She buried herself in his strength
her breath hot against his neck
as she built up the courage
to whisper
“I love you”.
He was the dark, strong comma
against her pale, elegant phrase.
She trembled as his gentle hands
glided across her, like leaves
dancing in the wind.
His eyes were whirlpools of desire
locked with hers in a gaze
so powerful
she couldn’t break it
and neither could he.
He was an intense wave
that lifted her up
and took her breath away.
Her heart was impatient, erratic
waiting
and waiting.
He wondered how to tell her
that she ignited his bones,
his heart,
his mind,
his soul.
He could do anything.
So he pulled her closer
face to face
foreheads pressed
lightly against each other.
Heart to heart,
mind to mind,
soul to soul,
he ran his fingers through her hair
as he whispered
“I love you”.
(Source: ilvadesoi)

(Source: ilvadesoi)

Happiness doesn’t lie in conspicuous consumption and the relentless amassing of useless crap. Happiness lies in the person sitting beside you and your ability to talk to them. Happiness is clear-headed human interaction and empathy. Happiness is home. And home is not a house; home is a mythological conceit. It is a state of mind. A place of communion and unconditional love. It is where, when you cross its threshold, you finally feel at peace. - Unknown
(Source: ilvadesoi)
(Source: atomos, via skywasneverthelimit)