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now, we burn bright too.

now, we burn bright too.

we wrote letters to the sun, heartache and poetry filled with confessions, stories and reasons for why we felt too deeply and fell too quickly we were dragon hearts and dandelion fuzz, graceful power and a shimmer of softness all beautifully broken and bound within...
garden of heartache.

garden of heartache.

wilted, like funeral roses, black and crumbling from the weight of your ghost they sit in stagnant denial, thoughts swirling and dreams drowning in their desolation, petals plucked and seeds strewn — perhaps, they’ll create a garden of heartache for all the lonely...