Sunday, January 6, 2013
he was never going to hold her hands in his again.
he would never kiss her neck again.
they would never lay in bed together, bodies entwined.
she would forever sleep alone.
it was a dead love, like the dried and wilting flowers she kept as decoration.
* listen to what i'm listening to
*i had a lovely family brunch followed by a falling out of friends.
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