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greatshit
greatshit
“I’m a hopeless romantic with a dirty mind.”
— Unknown
greatshit
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Reposted fromretaliate retaliate viaalegriadevivir alegriadevivir
greatshit
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greatshit
Play fullscreen
It's too late to dye young
greatshit

Nichts, nicht einmal der Tod soll uns trennen.

greatshit
Wenn er nicht da ist, bedecke ich seine Bettseite mit Objekte.
Manchmal legen RW-Bücher da, manchmal ein Glitzerkleid oder eine menge Wäsche.
Ich weiß nicht warum aber ich tu das einfach. Das Einschlafen ohne ihm wird immer schwieriger. Wenn ich einschlafe träume ich von ihm.
Am liebsten wache ich in seinen armen auf. An solchen Tagen sagt mir das Leben hallo und empfängt mich mit offenen Armen. Sowie er. Kein Polster auf dieser Welt ist so weich, wie seinen Brustkorb und nichts ist stärker als sein Halt.
Kein Himmel ist schöner als seine Augen wie die Sonne scheint und kein Hormon auf dieser Welt kann mehr für Glück sorgen wie sein Lachen.
Ich kann unter 7millionen Menschen sein, doch ohne ihn, bin ich allein.

Ich bin verliebt. Nach einem Jahr liebe ich ihn mehr und mehr. Ich liebe ihn so sehr, dass sich mein Brust mit Angst füllt nach einem Streit. Ich will ihn nicht verlieren.
greatshit
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Reposted fromunmadebeds unmadebeds viaWatermellon Watermellon
greatshit
greatshit
One minute and the Earth begins to shake.
Two minutes and my heart begins to break.
Another minute and he makes me feel brand new.
That's just three minutes with you...

Four minutes and he's everything I see.
Five minutes and he's where I wanna be.
Another minute everything just feels so new.
I need six minutes with you... 
Reposted fromeklerrka eklerrka viaalegriadevivir alegriadevivir
greatshit
greatshit
Manchmal siehe ich die Zukunft versteckt hinter einer düsteren Wolke.

I'm afraid...

... sometimes I'm afraid, that we keep together and fall apart

...or stop caring about

...that we get to busy for each other

...that maybe someone other make you happier than I do

...I'm afraid to be fighting for something that nobody wanted to be, and failling

...of getting to dependent of your love and addicted to you(what I already am probably)

sometimes I cry because I want to do everything the right way, but I just don't know what is right . The only right thing I knew in my life was you and will always be.
If you left me somewhen I wont never be able to LOVE somebody again as I love you.
sometimes I act stupid and I want too much love and give too much love back. Because it's the first time I love.

I have to say sorry because I always believe too much, trust and expect a lot. I'm always too afraid of beeing decepcioned and not coping with it or beeing hurted or left or going to fast and to far for us.

I always try not to be always thinking of you or trying to be with you but it's too late. As I started thinking of you I forgot how to give you away of my mind.

My thoughts and doubts hurt me, but I can't care less.

What we have is the only thing I have
greatshit
the human race is filled with passion
greatshit
just stop a minute and hear to my heart that beats to the rythm of dubstep
greatshit
Alone in the darkness, I try to give my existence a name

I'm so high, it's a shame

My heart is a pirate

Still looking for words, but they are like a see to me

I wish I could now...

I wish I would somehow...

But I don't know where to, with my pirate heart

Worlds come together, worlds feel apart

This is life, this is art.

If I could change things, I wouldn't.

Because everything comes as it should.

greatshit
I kinda like this crazy love that burns from inside to outside and drives you mad and makes you do everything you never did before.
But I also like this silent love that I read in your eyes. This love that I hear when I love in your chest.
greatshit
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ktvTqknDobU


Will I ever stop dreaming?!
greatshit
I talk about an old love
something deep inside my tresure chest.
This love isn't like an young love.Colourfull.
It's colors are fading away, but it stills there.
And it's my.
greatshit

Of Things That Burn


You told me that my poetry
didn’t burn your tongue
the way you thought it should.

But poetry is about
things that burn. Like cigarettes
or coffee or sun
beaming on a wooden porch.

Or the distance
between you and I.

And if that doesn’t burn you,
I don’t know what will.

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Reposted fromgoniewicz goniewicz
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