Her pieces are shredded made by the tears of her unadorned heart; her blood remains as her ink, the pen she grasped was the thorn of her never-ending desires consumed by her mind.
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Stories by Lex
The Little Keeper Of Memories
Even when people leave, what we've nurtured and love remains, everything's in the past is something we should...
The Child Who Was Never Hungry
True love isn't just about giving; it's also about preparing someone to live, even when everything else is ta...