

Our IssuesYour heart grew up in a black wooden boxOur Issues
and thought it fabulous, its world of
right angles,
wood grain,
and eternal night. It hated me when I bored the hole that let the sun singe its eyes, cook its skin, when rain collected the dirt on its skin
in a puddle beneath its feet and said: “look how dirty you are, foul thing.”
It hated and
hated and
still hates, always crawling under any
box it finds.
I ki
--
~Osmith~
Aren't i cute!?!?
Check out mi profile!!!
--
@_@
--
~Osmith~
Aren't i cute!?!?
Check out mi profile!!!
--
@_@
--
~Osmith~
Aren't i cute!?!?
Check out mi profile!!!
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