heartache
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A quiet hope that her name lives in someone else’s silences as often as theirs lives in hers.
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A tender confession about carrying someone like a protected secret and wondering what they would do if they knew.
A poetry library for the things that bruise us, the things that bloom anyway, and everything we become in between.
A quiet hope that her name lives in someone else’s silences as often as theirs lives in hers.
A tender confession about carrying someone like a protected secret and wondering what they would do if they knew.