⋆❀₊˚⊹♡ kenna ⋆❀₊˚⊹♡

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I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a face like hers—it’s like looking through a window at a storm. There’s rain, lightning, wind; there’re trees bending and shaking with the force of it. Part of you is glad to be separate from it. But part of you wants to press against the glass and get as close as you can.
The Other Side of Disappearing
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