"Maybe we feel empty because we leave pieces of ourselves in everything we used to love," r.m drake
Lashes heavy. Tightened. Barren and wet. Pretty lips pressed. Tongue tied. Still with a sweat. Eye's trembling, tracing back and forth. Bitter, broken, bruised, her unconscious conscious takes flight
'She was a Moon Flower, Only blooming at night... ..
a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost
'I am my own poison' Self destructive