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I, indeed, am a graveyard of every single thing I ever loved and let go. You bury them, they turn into flower. So I guess it's safe to say I'm also a garden.

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I left an empty note on your desk because that's how you made me feel. It was empty and so was I. It was empty because I went out of words to say or tears to cry for you and your tiny, fragile love. It was empty because there is nothing left of what we used to be.

sep 24 2021 ∞
sep 24 2021 +