Whimsical and Wishful

Just a girl in search of ethereal beauty and eunoia. aspiring poet.

he wanted fire,
a warm hand to hold
but I wanted someone
who was used to the cold

I don’t think I was anything
more than skin to a bone,
yet it’s funny how I’m
the one who ended up alone.


Worth a million reblogs 

Reblogging again and again. Jesus, we love you. *This is really worth a million reblogs. To show how much pain Jesus have gone through just for US* Jesus sacraficed HIS life, went through all that pain and suffering FOR YOU, yet you can’t even reblog this post? Reblog, it’s something you can do to give back to God, what he gave for you.

Worth a million reblogs 

Reblogging again and again. Jesus, we love you. *This is really worth a million reblogs. To show how much pain Jesus have gone through just for US* Jesus sacraficed HIS life, went through all that pain and suffering FOR YOU, yet you can’t even reblog this post? Reblog, it’s something you can do to give back to God, what he gave for you.

(via heldinhishands)

seditious-libel:

I am sick 
of eternally being left in 
the dust as a minuscule 
and unimportant speck 
of nothingness. I want 
to taste success again;
it’s a rare delicacy in 
my monotonous, 
prosaic existence.

HIGH SCHOOL



This is how to run a stick of Chapstick
down the black boxes on your scantron
so the grading machine skips the wrong
answers. This is how to honor roll. Hell,
this is how to National Honor Society.
This is being voted “Most Likely to Marry
for Money” or “Talks the Most, Says the
Least” for senior superlatives. This is
stepping around the kids having panic
attacks in the hallway. This is being the
kid having a panic attack in the hallway.
This is making the A with purple moons
stamped under both eyes. We had to try.
This is telling the ACT supervisor you have
ADHD to get extra time. Today, the average
high school student has the same anxiety
levels as the average 1950’s psychiatric
patient. We know the Pythagorean theorem
by heart, but short-circuit when asked
“How are you?” We don’t know. We don’t
know. That wasn’t on the study guide.
We usually know the answer, but rarely
know ourselves.

HIGH SCHOOL By Blythe Baird (via blythebrooklyn)

(via wordsonrepeat)

heldinhishands asked: how long have you been writing?

I’ve been writing on and off since I was about 11 :) I’m 17 now so six years woo

Spring holds my hand
as Winter kisses me goodbye,
“He has held you too long,
you hardly look like yourself anymore”

Spring takes me into her meadows,
and softly places a daffodil 
behind my ear, saying “Winter
can no longer bother you, here”.

It’s not that Winter bothered me so,
it was that He kept me too long,
that He would not let go

truthfully, I have yet to
find any blue eyes
that were as
beautiful as yours
or a smile that has
ever made me feel so warm

and somehow
I don’t think
I ever will

happymonk:

you only wrote
a verse in the
story book that
is my life

but it was the
most important
line

(via heldinhishands)