Saturday, November 21, 2009


Sky (Photograph)

every once in a while, she would cry herself to sleep for some reason. staining the pillow, sobbing n aching under the blanket, straining to hug herself. she would crave for the attention she never had the guts to request. as much as she wanted to scrub away the pain, she hung on, striving to count every blessing. n when the world stopped spinning, she would out of habit picking at words, forming in rearranging them countless times in her head, until it tire her out n pull her under.


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