deceit—
what’s the point of
remembering a pretty face
like yours?apparently beauty never
was physical.
YOU ARE READING
nostalgia ┊❁ཻུ۪۪⸙
Poesíafor you who has found this, for you who has vainly read my dreaded feelings and silent sobs.
8 : 46 p.m.
deceit—
what’s the point of
remembering a pretty face
like yours?apparently beauty never
was physical.