a space for my photography, and maybe a thought here or there
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you can tell all the pretty people in summer in their bare skin, the sun follows them. and it makes me very anxious to leave here and turn out into the world where others can see me and see I am not like them, I am not a girl of summer but a girl who needs winter’s shield to hide her imperfections
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I found my heart beating outside my own chest
and my lungs breathing stale cigarettes
and now we’re buried six feet under
what a shame we’ve become such wasted wonders
