english love quotes on tumblr

And some nights I think to myself
What is the point?
I mean really what is the point in being alive?
I hate myself.
And there’s nothing more and nothing less to it
—  pt 1 - 29/01/17
Everyone has more to them than what meets the eye, so why would you love someone at first sight?
—  Coral-vellichor
I have a universe inside my head. The planets are revolving around us, the stars shining bright. You were my moon and you kept running through the night and I was your sun who died every night just for you to be free. Our love is forbidden, the galaxies are pulling us away from each other. No matter how powerful we were, we will never collide because we are forced to let each other shine and that made us apart. It’s a never-ending cycle and we can’t blame the space between us.
—  02/09/17; zeus
I want to be your favorite song that you kept on your phone playlist and being played on repeat. I will be the song your lips sing. I will create peace in the middle of your nightmares. Out of the blue my words are the one you tell everyone.I will be your wake up call and lullaby at the same time. Be on your head wandering in the secret paradise you hide, touching the wildest day dreams, dancing on the alluring imaginations.  BUT I’m not your favorite song. You hated the melody, the rhythm, the harmony and every pieces of music I got. I was being stock and skipped. So if I can’t be your favorite song I’ll just write you a song with the words I want you to live with, with the feelings I kept on my playlist. I’ll hide some clues behind this song in blues. So, please grab you guitar and sing this song for me.
—  Your Favorite
You have to be the kind of person who can make the best out of a Tuesday. You know those people who live for the weekends? They’re wishing their life away. You have to find something worth living for or else you’ll look back and realize you’ve wasted your life away.
—  Drew Marvin, English Teacher

And I’m still not sure why but the tears came falling-
First a gentle stream,

I was still
Painted in mud
Rain ricocheting off of my coat onto the cold, hard stone.

Grey- so much grey
Tripping on my own steps
A stranger to my body
knees folded by some other-worldly force

Wet; Ice; Hard; Pavement.

Feeble fingertips drawing patterns on the old rotting wood,
Slipping, slipping, blood.
The cracks became my thoughts.
Broken. Tarnished. Used.

The past and the present fold into one.
Free spirit. Young. Naive.
Trapped. Old. Wise.
Nostalgia I think they call it.

Hell I think I’ll call it.
I think we have grown.
I’m different.

It was a fence.
I climbed it once.
Someone broke it.
I don’t know who it was.
But I hate them.
A fence.
For Gods sake it was only a fence.
But it was my fence- my goddam fence- and someone broke it.

Maybe it was more than a fence. Maybe it was a metaphor. I don’t know.

And I’m still not sure why but the tears came falling-
First a gentle stream,

—  it was just a fence.