Lucille was a very hateful girl with a posed smile, tightening corners, and chapped lips. It was people who told her of such people who were perfect. It was people who brought her to her knees in swallowing sorrow. It was people she hated the most. It was herself she despised the most. The unruly hair in the mornings
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Everything I Didn't Say
RandomA collection of writing excerpts that have found themselves forgotten about in my drive.
