Precious Kaitlyn Ashley Noel. 16. musician.
Thought…
Lately, I’ve grown fearful of the idea that I am completely insignificant in this life. I feel so small in the huge life. But, I realized that it’s the lives you touch around you along the way that keep life in motion and set footprints on the hearts of people, continuing the human race…
4 months ago
Notes
I’m thinking that that is the best idea I have ever heard. I want to do all that and more with you. I want to be by you to protect you when things are rough. I want to take care of you and serve you. I want to love you in every way that I can think of. I want to just hold you and be with you. Everything in life I want to give to you.
You.
10 months ago
Notes
Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.
‘Fresh as the first beam glittering on the sail,
That brings our friends up from the underworld,
Sad as the last which reddens over one
That sinks with all we love below the verge;
So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
‘Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns
The earliest pipe of half-awaken’d birds
To dying ears, when unto dying eyes
The casement slowly grows a glimmering square;
So sad, so strange, the days that are no more.
‘Dear as remember’d kisses after death,
And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign’d
On lips that are for others; deep as love,
Deep as first love, and wild with all regret;
O Death in Life, the days that are no more.’
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.
‘Fresh as the first beam glittering on the sail,
That brings our friends up from the underworld,
Sad as the last which reddens over one
That sinks with all we love below the verge;
So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
‘Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns
The earliest pipe of half-awaken’d birds
To dying ears, when unto dying eyes
The casement slowly grows a glimmering square;
So sad, so strange, the days that are no more.
‘Dear as remember’d kisses after death,
And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign’d
On lips that are for others; deep as love,
Deep as first love, and wild with all regret;
O Death in Life, the days that are no more.’
Haven’t posted in a long time…
I miss how things used to be. But I’m praying for something so much better.
(via lauratayl0r)
1 year ago
266 notes
