Monday, October 12, 2015
Almost nothing could compare to the intense and intimate fragility of my young heart. Entwined with the comprehension and composition of death and departure, these two things I cannot seem to tell apart. Forests and softness include me in their absurdity and drag my sweetness to a low and earthy state. God, do grab me. Nigh! Take away not my wistful and tininess! I am the face of cheerful motherlessness and I wince my nights away to the sound of cancerous phone calls. Let my heart.
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