A broken heart, a pen I held. Wrote in sheets, wrote words I haven't said. Behold every stories, all solemn and deep worries. Soul is mend when I move my pen, story been told not by mouth but hand.
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Story by weeping_crescent
Quite Like Shadows
A story of pain, silence, and the boy who dared to notice.
"Some scars are invisible. Some hearts are to...
