Pretending at being an ambassador to faeries, while counting backwards to reformation. Back home, the lotus petals can't seem to stop falling. Contrivances stripped away, one after another. From what I hear, It just sucks. Maybe look away from your reflection, little lotus. In the meantime, neon blue will-o-wisps light up make-believe horizons. A flute of nostalgias plays for no one in particular as the stars set behind the eyes.
11:38 p.m. - 2019-11-13
Recent entries:
Persistent Piercing - 2019-11-21
Persistent Piercing - 2019-11-21
Sewn Fingers - 2019-11-15
Remorsels - 2019-11-15
Removing Itself - 2019-11-14
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