ā you learn to feel it less, or you learn to love other things. ā 㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤my lovely @verglase
WITHERED SPRINGć ¤/ć ¤WEEPING FLORA .ć ¤she has long forgotten love's warmth .ć ¤her chest has became a hollow cathedral for those she once held so close her thorns ripped the skinć ¤&ć ¤made them bleed ,ć ¤a graveyard full of ghostsć ¤&ć ¤dangerous things that remain dormant within her .ć ¤creator of her own hauntingć ¤;ć ¤she reaches out for a light that is always too far from the tip of sylph - limbs ,ć ¤too blind to realize herself is a shadow chained to ruins ,ć ¤eroded wristsć ¤/ć ¤weaneked anklesć ¤(ć ¤it's a void .ć ¤the more she fills it with prideć ¤&ć ¤arsenic the bigger it gets ,ć ¤ravenous ,ć ¤wilder āāāāć ¤) .ć ¤āć ¤āāāāāwhat did you choseć ¤?ć ¤āć ¤a solemn movement causes the chin to rotate in winter's direction ,ć ¤the echo of a pleadge resouning inside the deepest of blue . ć ¤there is a butterfly trapped on her throat ,ć ¤wings flapping in dispair trying to escape from its flesh cageć ¤(ć ¤isn't that her ,ć ¤after allć ¤?ć ¤) . ć ¤āć ¤to feel lessć ¤?ć ¤or to loveć ¤āāāāć ¤other thingsć ¤?ć ¤ā















