How ironic it is to claim I fell in love with a mind of a drawn masterpiece when I have no idea what's inside that mind.
How ironic it is to believe I was captured by beaconed pieces of a soul I thought I knew better than the back of my hand.
Clearly I never knew you at all.
YOU ARE READING
The Chaos Of A Human.Being
RandomA couple of words thrown around in the form of thoughts.
