I WRITE,
I write as I watch my world slipping trough my hands, my heart shattering from the force of me holding it and the breeze carrying all the dust with itself.
  • The lake where all poets went to die
  • IscrittoJune 26, 2023
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lossttlisaa lossttlisaa Jul 14, 2023 07:09AM 
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She wanted to be his sunshine but he caved himself with darkness.
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