♡06|29|2024♡
Touch me not, for I am a broken glass. Fix me not, for thy hands are worth more than a stain of blood. Forgive me not, for my brokenness tormented thy loving heart. Love me not, for I already have my pieces ripped apart.
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Spilled Sentiments (On-Going)
PoetryPoetry is a journey and the poet is its voyager.
