Stories by a broken ego, from a being that fell apart and tried to make something out of nothing.
Δευτέρα 3 Νοεμβρίου 2014
Part of a book I'll never write. 2
“And I wanted winter to last a bit longer so I would have an excuse to bury my head in his arms. To hold him a little closer each time; to breathe him in ; to mould my heart with his.”
– Things you shouldn’t know
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