Letters... to whoever.
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I am afraid. I’m afraid of mirrors and flashbacks and breakdowns, dreams that don’t make sense and wishes that don’t come true, and poetry
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I am sick of your denial, plastic words wrapped up in promises and threats and my monophobia.39 lines, 5 comments, on Sep 19 7:56 PM. In Prose
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dear Angel,
I want answers to that night when I smashed all the second-story windows and pretended I was a nightingale.33 lines, 2 comments, on Oct 3 10:41 PM. In Prose
