poem 41
The ink on the pen is running out. Just like my wounds are bleeding out. I have nothing to write. Just like I have no tears to cry. My emotions are everywhere. Just like fears are roaming.-mommamafia
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The ink on the pen is running out. Just like my wounds are bleeding out. I have nothing to write. Just like I have no tears to cry. My emotions are everywhere. Just like fears are roaming.-mommamafia
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: Truyen247.Pro