And then there is this sinking feeling where i have no clue what to do, I hit my palm against my head, repeatedly, hoping I never had woke up.
YOU ARE READING
tainted
Poetryif I could I would write you the world my dear, a tainted mind; give me color. ©
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And then there is this sinking feeling where i have no clue what to do, I hit my palm against my head, repeatedly, hoping I never had woke up.