no version of yourself is truly gone, only changed through experience and layered with time. what is to become of these versions when their home no longer exists?
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no version of yourself is truly gone, only changed through experience and layered with time. what is to become of these versions when their home no longer exists?
"I know I'm sunk deep to this point
To the point where I'm drowned
Into this bowl of honey I feel
I feel like there's no other way out"
A collection of poems about love, admiration and fondness.