Wednesday, 16 March 2011
Broken.
I watch your world from a far; wishing, wanting. Watching it unravel. Twisting in my thread delicately so as not to disturb the foundation as yet undisturbed but dangerously close to shattering. Crocheting the pieces of your broken world together, only to ruffle my own. The beauty in the mess will come through. Honestly.
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