i.

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we drive through the woods, rich neighborhoods to watch
we joked as we looked that they were too good for us




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she chuckled lightly, hanging on to every word, while her brunette love laid her head on her lap, munching on her nachos as bits fell down her chin, eyes dancing around as her free hand moved about, trying to explain some ridiculous joke that her bandmates made.

she threaded her terracotta shaded fingers delicately through the her girlfriend's ombre hair, while reaching her other hand out to grab a bag of popcorn from the driver's seat, putting it out for the girl in her lap.

she stared at the light freckles sprinkled over her face, making constellations on her universe. she was her world, and it was the gracious fate that had brought them in each other's loving arms. to her, she was beautiful, mesmerizing, enchanting her and enticing her to follow her to the deepest depths.

she was her muse, her light in the middle of the dark woods. she could get so lost in her liquid marble eyes, she would be too late to realize she had drowned long ago.

she'd be dragged to the very bottom, but then suddenly, she'd get to the surface, for the those ocean eyes had frozen the very moment the name 'tammy thompson' spilled from her plume lips.

oh what an irony, an oxymoron it was, the one she loved was loving someone through her.

oh what a sweet sorrow.




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'cause socially speaking, we were the same
with runaway fathers and mothers who drank "




𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒎𝒚, robin buckleyWhere stories live. Discover now