sometimes
we become slaves
to our emotions
held captive
by the moment
unwilling to release
what has injured us
we arm ourselves
with ammunition
from the basket
of resentment
and if we’re very lucky
wisdom steps in
to urge us to put down
the basket and
let go of the chains
giving us the opportunity
to step away from the moment
and get it pass
while we remain
now unfettered by
Time’s cruel hand and
our primordial instincts
“It wasn’t just how he made her wet Its how he made her feel about making her so wet”
—
Original writing © ThePoeticSir 2016
(via thepoeticsir)
♥️
(via sexyscorpiowoman)
specially the butterflies
through good times and bad times
she still believes..
You would have no idea.... my longing is eating me alive
What is your fantasy?