A Poet's Muse
I'm a simple person, but i have a complex mind. I appreciate beauty. Art, music, and love is what makes the world go 'round.
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The Rolling Stones, Miss You (via introspectivepoet)

(Source: azlyrics.com, via introspectivepoet)

I’ve been walking Central Park
Singing after dark
People think I’m crazy…

F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender Is the Night (via introspectivepoet)

(Source: goodreads.com, via introspectivepoet)

In any case you mustn’t confuse a single failure with a final defeat.


A Sea of 4.5 Million Baby Blue Eye Flowers in Japan’s Hitachi Seaside Park

Sylvia Plath

(Source: raccoonwounds, via innerhappinessmeansmost)

Being born a woman is an awful tragedy. Yes, my consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars—to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording—all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yet, God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night.

Nav K  (via splitterherzen)

(Source: navk, via innerhappinessmeansmost)

are not
or autumn

do not

Navin E. (via wordswritteninsilence)

I don’t remember when I started feeling so lonely.

I went back to the moment you left, but it was before then. And, that scares me to this day; knowing, I might have always had this void.

On Raglan Road →


On Raglan Road on an autumn day I met her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue;
I saw the danger, yet I walked along the enchanted way,
And I said, let grief be a fallen leaf at the dawning of the day.

On Grafton Street in November we tripped…

(Source: poemhunter.com)

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