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[poetsunited]

Of course, I love you,’ the flower said to him. ‘If you were not aware of it, it was my fault.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince (via minuty)

[poetsunited]

[poetsunited]

“I miss you deeply, unfathomably, senselessly, terribly.”

— Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena

[poetsunited]

Wrong Someone

It’s bedtime and I’m wide awake

I can’t believe it’s been so long

Do you ever think about mistakes

What got you to a certain place

Changing his name in your phone

Holding hands when you were alone

The roof at sunset in the snow

Fruity candy canes in your vodka drink

watching the wrong boy fall asleep

Since when do blue eyes make you not think

You’re happy now but so, so changed

You clearly see

what got you to where you are

Were no mistakes at all

Just midnight candy runs

With the wrong someone

You knew it wouldn’t last

But you couldn’t help but try

Long road trips are best when you’re not alone

And he smelled like home

You knew it wouldn’t last

But you got out alive

It’s bedtime and I’m wide awake

Too tired though, can’t sleep

[poetsunited]

[poetsunited]

If you’re a poet a misfit a dreamer, a schemer, a rebel, a lover, a doer, a thinker, please for the love of the universe don’t change.

Anonymous (via wnq-anonymous)

[poetsunited]

A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.

Oscar Wilde (via quotemadness)

[poetsunited]

strange, isn’t it? going from talking to someone every day to talking to them not at all. and I could pretend like I never met you, that you never told me the things you did, and we’d just go on with our lives, like I never happened to you, and you never happened to me.

M.K  (via kyukos)

@studywithmaggie you write!!!!

(via hufflestnerd)

And I can act like I don’t hurt

Like I’m okay with it

But deep inside

There is so much that I miss

All those late night conversations

But the truth is

Even though I miss you every day

I forget more and more

And now

I don’t remember

The way you talk

How your smile looks

The content of most of our conversations

And I never thought about

How 3 months can feel like an eternity

And even after 3 years

It feels like

Just yesterday

[poetsunited]

The Falling of the Leaves (W. B. Yeats)

Autumn is over the long leaves that love us,

And over the mice in the barely sheaves;

Yellow the leaves of the rowan above us,

And yellow the wet wild-strawberry leaves.

The hour of the waning of love has beset us,

And weary and worn are our sad souls now;

Let us part, ere the season of passion forget us,

With a kiss and a tear on thy drooping brow.