this is pain after pain
the grey skies pouring soft flakes over the forest floor. “Mother said that if she ever left us for the heavens, she’d become a winter sky, full of snowy storms. Will we make pretty winter skies, too?”
——
“Tell me you know that I’ve never pretended for a moment. Tell me that you know that. Do I love that terribly? Do I not know how to love? Have you not felt it at all?”
— Jun 13, 2024 02:37AM
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