Donna will always be my favorite companion, and I will never seriously ship The Doctor with anyone but 10/Rose and sometimes 11/River, but MARTHA WAS A BADASS.

Smoke concealed my eyes and soon strangled my heart.  
It was no great surprise that I wanted to depart. 
So off I went into the void and sanity was gone;
they lost me, and so did I, the smoke had finally won.

I saw no point, this apathy had taken my identity.
I was not recognizable, just a sad and lifeless entity. 
Brights scarlet and flashing golds and shining emerald, too—
they’re colors that I could not see, no, everything was blue.

But blue would fade to navy, and navy into gray,
then all the sudden I could only see life in one way 
I could never, ever truly take this to the end.
I knew if I would let go there, loved ones would barely mend.

Yet I never felt a single thing, 
I always was alone.
My favorite foods were tasteless,
and my laughter just a groan.

I took the hole inside my chest and filled it up with fantasies, 
Reality was nothing to the man from Gallifrey. 
It was the perfect anesthetic to my borderline insanity,
but in the end my troubles had not truly gone away. 

As empty-hearted as the man from 221B Baker Street,
as full of pain as a blood-soaked madman, nine-hundred years young. 
I was a living paradox trapped inside my own mind, 
but I can’t go back on my own time line, I can not hit rewind.

I’m sorry that I pushed you all away for my own sake, 
You left me too, and in the end what difference does it make?
I’ve changed so much, I just gave up; I wanted it to end. 
No one was there to hold me up, no imitation of a friend. 

So I got inside a metal bird for a trip into the past.
To see the friend who was always there, the distance wouldn’t last.
Suddenly I felt at home, perspective put in place.
Five short days had enough clock ticks to change my weary ways.

So here’s to being all alone and finding joy again,
to having faith in anything, to seeing some things end.
Here is to these failing grades and giving up completely, 
and here is to new aspirations, hopes and dreams reborn.

Here is to new friendships which began right away, 
from shopping malls to TARDIS cakes to ships from outer-space.
Here’s to leaving it behind, but it is not the end;
it’s a beautiful beginning to a poor life on the mend.

So maybe I was lazy, so maybe I was cold.
Maybe in my youthful body, I was forty-eight years-old.
But it’s not worth it to sit around and let joy pass you by.
Life is a pile of good and bad things, accept it or your soul may die.

I don’t believe that things will pick up straight from the start,
struggles of coming back home stabbed me immediately in the heart.
I will still fall and maybe I will just give up again,
but maybe this time it’s different, I may just hold on ‘til the end.

Do not fret, do not give up, do not ball up and pout.
Hold on when you are on the edge and tottering about.
Because deep down I do believe that we are not without;
for even if you do jump off, “There’s always a way out.”

cosmostrekker:

blameitonthesilence:

… awkward Silence

River of tears

I’m simply Rorying with laughter.

Your argument is invalid.
 

doctorwhogifs:

“Hi honey, I’m home.”

“And what sort of time do you call this?”

THE WAY HE SAYS “HONEY” IS THE CUTEST THING I’VE EVER HEARD. LOOK AT THIS SCENE