There's nothing worse than being abadoned by those you love and trust, especially when you really need them.

Kate Whiteman

"My existence is a scandal."

~ Oscar Wilde

Inspired by: ‘deafening silence’- @moonchild-09

In art there is passion; In poetry there is war

No matter

What

I will

Listen

To you

I will

Hear you

Even when

No one else

Listens

I still will

Be there

Listening

And even

If everyone else

Forgets you

I will still

Remember

Always

Warmly

Like this

I will

Hug your

Memory

-J.Wool, I Will Remember, Soul Whispers

i turn my face when i see my reflection. how can i love a body that shelters me, yet makes me feel so alone?

-shelby leigh

at the end

of the world

I hope you’ll be

standing right next to me

holding my hand, squeezing it tight

while watching the chaos

unfold,

just that,

that we are together

that one last moment,

keeps me going

every time

-

I feel like giving up

I am turning nineteen. Volume II.

Looking back at my teenage self.

She had been hurting so much. I wish I could go back and tell her that I love her and she’s perfect and that everything is going to work out. Everything hadn’t worked out, but she needed to hear that it would. I wish I could tell her how many more times she’s gonna love and laugh and smile and how many more times life would be good to her. She needed to hear it. Life will be good to her. Life is good to her. She needs to be good to herself too. The pain will cease. New, better, more comfortable pain is gonna take its place. Pain that isn’t sharp, pain that is kinder. Pain that will make home in the deep of her chest, in the round corners of her mind, pain that will remind her how good it is to love and to have loved. Pain that will make everything all more worth it. It’s a good kind of pain that lets her love more deeply and more appreciatively. A beautiful kind of pain.

I can't say which is worse - to lose someone you love, or to look for them in every person you meet.

a.y.

"I need you like I have never needed anyone in my life, I need you like flowers need sunlight.. I need you in a way that says I love you over one hundred thousand times, I need you and if I can't have you it just isn't right."

I just need you, ok? *smacks the groceries on the floor* haha - eUë

On December 7th 1784 Allan Cunningham, the Poet was born.

Cunningham’s father was a neighbour of Robert Burns and as a boy Cunningham attended his funeral, he was born and raised in Dumfiesshire. At a young age Cunningham was apprenticed to a stonemason but spent his free time reading, and writing imitations of old Scottish ballads. In 1807 he contributed to Roche’s Literary Recreations a periodical Monthly responsible for publishing Lord Byrons works.

In 1809 or therabouts he sent some Scottish Ballads he claimed to have collected to be used in Cromek’s “Remains of Nithdale and Galloway Song. Actually they were his own creations.” He came to know the author James Hogg and through him met Sir Walter Scott who suspected that the ballads in Cromek’s were in fact his own. Scott and Hogg would have been the leading authorities on folklore and ballads of Scotland at that time.

In 1813 he published, “Songs, Chiefly in the rural dialect of Scotland.” Thereafter, Cunningham, was persuaded by Cromek to move to London where be became a parliamentary reporter for "The London Magazine” and met the sculptor Sir Francis Chantry, later becoming his assistant and secretary. A position he held from 1814 until Chantry’s death in 1841. During this time, Cunningham continued to pursue literary interests when time permitted, writing three novels, a series of stories (which he contributed to Blackwood’s Magazine,) biographies, as well as many songs.

He married a servant of the house in which he was lodging and had six children, several of whom also became writers. Cunningham wrote many stories and poetic dramas but apart from hi Complete works of Burns it for hie poems and ballads he s best known and remembered.

The Waes o’ Scotland

When I left thee, bonnie Scotland, Thou wert fair to see, Fresh as a bonnie bride i’ the morn When she maun wedded be!

When I came back to thee, Scotland, Upon a May-morn fair, A bonnie lass sat at our town-en’, Kaming her yellow hair.

“O hey! O hey!” sung the bonnie lass, “O hey! an’ wae ’s me! There ’s joy to the Whigs, an’ land to the Whigs, An’ nought but wae to me!

"O hey! O hey!” sung the bonnie lass, “O hey! an’ wae ’s me! There ’s siccan sorrow in Scotland, As een did never see.

"O hey! O hey for my father auld! O hey! for my mither dear! An’ my heart will burst for the bonnie lad Wha left me lanesome here!”

I had na gane in my ain Scotland Mae miles than twa or three, When I saw the head o’ my ain father Coming up the gate to me.

“A traitor’s head!” and “a traitor’s head!” Loud bawled a bluidy loon; But I drew frae the sheath my glaive o’ weir, An’ strak the reaver down.

I hied me hame to my father’s ha’; Alas and alack anee! My dear mither lay ‘mang the ashes gray, And the death-tear in her ee.

“O wha has wrought this bluidy wark? Had I the reaver here, I ’d wash his sark in his ain heart’s blude, And gie ’t to his love to wear!”

I wander a’ night 'mang the lands I own’d, When a’ folk are asleep, And lie owre my father and mither’s grave, An hour or twa to weep!

O fatherless and motherless, Without a ha’ or hame, I maun wander through my ain Scotland, And bide a traitor’s blame.

Allan Cunningham . 1784-1842

Inspired by: ‘As light bring about death’ - @hiddenbeet

Trying to touch infinity with some words.

And if one day

Shall I ever fade

From your mind

At least I know

I once lived there

If even for the briefest

Moment of time

That is enough

To make this soul

Of mine smile

And step back into

The light that beckons me

to soar back

To my home

Those lilac clouds

in the sky

Where I sit

Curls dancing

In the wind

-J.Wool, Shall I Ever Fade, Soul Whispers

“Love isn’t soft, like those poets say. Love has teeth which bite and the wounds never close.”

Stephen King

-Benedict Smith, I wish I wrote the way I thought

Tom Hiddleston is retiring from acting and he came to my university to lecture about Shakespeare. I jumped out of my window (I live on the fifth floor) to run to university to catch his lecture. There were zombies on the way so I Ramboed my way through them. I arrived to uni just as Tom revealed himself to be Loki and that he was also Shakespeare's real life muse.