my sister takes nice photos.


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Cross the street from your storefront cemetery. Hear me hailing from inside and realize, I am the conscience clear, in pain or ecstasy, and we were all weaned my dear, upon the same fatigue. (You're staring at the sun) Oh my own voice cannot save me now. It's just (standing in the sea ( Read more... )

look.
look.

( look. )

blahblahblahblah this is a friends only journal.