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Screaming loud enough to turn back the wind. (
whatawaytoburn
) wrote
in
thelinesoflearning
2012-06-12 12:11 am (UTC)
no subject
It wasn't her fault that she grew up broken.
The crumbling beauty of a passion no longer felt
"Their world is read," I protested. "Just in a different way. At a different angle."
She shared this room with the ghost of her own childhood.
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no subject
The crumbling beauty of a passion no longer felt
"Their world is read," I protested. "Just in a different way. At a different angle."
She shared this room with the ghost of her own childhood.