He reminded me of an artwork.
An abstract piece of art only a few could ever truly understand. I would like to say that I was one of those rare few, but that would be lying. No matter how many times he convinced me to crawl into his cold bed, or the amount of precious times i made him smile, i could never grasp the concept of the boy with electric blue eyes.
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Words with Wounds
PoésieThe truth is, I crave that empty itch that resides between my flesh and skin; that horrid feeling that calls the rigid spaces between my hallow bones home. © astrolate