A poet and wannabe badass . I love books, Paris,words, and all things beautiful. Some pics may be NSFW so make sure you are over 18 please.
she’s the girl with a
fairytale face
but her mouth screams
like a wolf’s
‘The Lord Of The Rings’ is mythology, it’s a fairytale, it’s an adventure. It never happened. Except in our hearts. But there was The Shire, in three dimensions and smoke coming out of the burrows where they lived. And… I believed.
Here’s to the girls that love to be barefoot in the rain…
Treat them well
They may seem rough and tumble
Fiercely independent and wild spirited
But they are fragile at heart, and need much tenderness
And firm embraces when the storms come, and they’ll come
They like pretty things, draw girly hearts on letters and dance in cotton dresses
They need passion, need even more to fuel your passion
Their fires burn beneath the winsome smiles and sterling eyes
They beg for the crush of your body, the heft of you, musk and firm hands
They have soft centers and tangy nectar that will lure you to your undoing
Like sirens on the shore on hot summer nights you’ll be drawn to them
They curl up like kittens on your chest, leaving blankets behind
So you can always see the fineness of their delicate body on you
Unkempt they are still porcelain and jasmine sleeping
Awake they are vanilla and lace, all wrapped up in your loving embrace
Treat them well
Here’s to the girls that love to be barefoot in the rain…
Treat them well
They may seem rough and tumble
Fiercely independent and wild spirited
But they are fragile at heart, and need much tenderness
And firm embraces when the storms come, and they’ll come
They like pretty things, draw girly hearts on letters and dance in cotton dresses
They need passion, need even more to fuel your passion
Their fires burn beneath the winsome smiles and sterling eyes
They beg for the crush of your body, the heft of you, musk and firm hands
They have soft centers and tangy nectar that will lure you to your undoing
Like sirens on the shore on hot summer nights you’ll be drawn to them
They curl up like kittens on your chest, leaving blankets behind
So you can always see the fineness of their delicate body on you
Unkempt they are still porcelain and jasmine sleeping
Awake they are vanilla and lace, all wrapped up in your loving embrace
Treat them well
Cherry red hair in nostalgia’s mare of carelessness
Where denial’s essence of a blessing kept unkempt
Arresting development in the right kind of dress
To be worn like a knight in skin tight armor
Preventing regression in moments of duress
Pink Floyd // Wish You Were Here
We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl year after year,
Running over the same old ground,
What have we found, The same old fears
Wish you were here
