Big girls don’t cry.

Falling in love with you was like skinny dipping in winter

Falling in love with you was like

Benjamin Franklin

standing in the pouring rain

holding the key high enough

hoping to feel some sort of spark

some sort of electricity.

It was reckless

It was a suicide attempt.

Falling in love with you

was the only thing I felt good at.

 

– excerpts from a book I’ll never write.

 

Yours truly,

Painted Shadow

 

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