I Choose The Moon

Personal Stories, Advice, and Support

    Horses, hearts and Hemingway always leave a

    trickling tear. Sunsets, stars, the newborn day, will vanquish every ounce of fear. But why do you refuse to know, that every blade is doubly edged? Waves can murder with a blow. Doves will wither on their ledge. Horses, hearts and Hemingway, are rotting corpses in the ground...
    LadyHeartnMind LadyHeartnMind
    31-35, F
    Apr 7, 2016
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