misadventures

victoria. 21. Jersey. artist. poet. dancer.

Lost is a relative term.
I prefer infinite.

(via bl-ossomed)

(Source: wordsthat-speak, via beautifulinsanity)

I want you. I want your sleepy confused look when you wake up, and the smile that follows. I want to be the warmth that fills the space in your bed. I don’t want to share you.

"Emma has always really pushed Hook off because, I think, deep down she knows this is someone she could actually fall for." - Eddy Kitsis, "There’s No Place Like Home" commentary

(Source: signyx, via emmasjones)

Six Word Story #2 (via whispersofstardust)

(via funfzehn)

I will not be your “sometimes”.

moosecannoncop:

trying to sing both parts in a disney song like

A WHOLE NEW WORLdon’t you dare close your eyes

A HUNDRED THOUShold your breath it gets better

I’M LIKE A SHOOTING STAR, I’VE COME SO FAR, I CAN’T GO BACK TO WHEREa whole new wooorrlllEVERY TURN A SURPRIwith new horizonEVERY MOMENT GETS BETTER

(via funfzehn)

odonoghuedaily:

The Rite - ‘We talk exorcisms & horror with Colin ODonoghue’ /interview

(via lillyanjones)

A.Y // these are trying times (via psych-facts)

There is something about
night-time that seems to
accentuate
everything.
Forgotten feelings
you have buried in
your chest.
The empty space
in the palm of
your hand.
This unspoken hurt
that gnaws on
your bones
and leaves you
aching
for someone to tell you
the secrets of survival.

Rudy Akbarian (via blurrymelancholy)

(Source: obeythesquid, via ilahlahloveyou)

Poetry doesn’t have to rhyme, it just has to touch someone where your hands couldn’t.

wolverxne:

New York 2014 - by: { SamAlive } | [Follow on Tumblr]

(Source: WOLVERXNE, via ilahlahloveyou)