My smile left a bread crumb trail back to New York City. Here the only flights we take are down three flights of stairs.
Stormy weather in my head. I feel stapled to the starless sky and told to outshine the moon.
When they remind you that 'the worst is over now' they mean who you once were. White lies for a white Christmas.
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We will forever be a community of writers asking you to fall in (love) or be taken (hostage.) We only want to make you smile, and encourage you to pick up the pen, or start using those fingers on your keyboard!
