What if he's written mine on my upper thigh only in my mind? One slip, I'm falling back into the hedge maze, oh, what a way to die. My bedsheets are ablaze, I screamed his name, building up like waves crashing over my grave without ever touching his skin. How can I be guilty as sin?
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SoyAliceHalpert
2 hours ago
So long, London, stitches undone, two graves, one gun. I'll find someone.View all Conversations