A day, a time, and counting.
Whenever I write, I have made it.
Showing posts with label
weak.
.
Show all posts
Showing posts with label
weak.
.
Show all posts
Wednesday
I have both hands on it's wrist and still its fingers brace for leverage upon any flesh that has not tore or bothered it's cinching grip. It's closing my wits, upon opening my will to let, let it have what has no fight.
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