The only thing that's left is the manuscript. One last souvenir from my trip to your shores. Now and then, I re-read the manuscript; but the story isn't mine anymore.
-> Some poetry, love letters I never sent, thrown-out speeches, letters addressed to the fire and midnight epiphanies.
cover is not mine.
all rights reserved.
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A poetry book of my journey through friendship, love, loss, personal growth, confusion, betrayal, resentment, hate, hope, light, and eventual healing.
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