sometimes, i want to burn the papers.

sorrowI have cuts around my fingers from writing nonstop about the stories I want to happen with us along with the histories of bad existences for a touch of realness. Every draft I form, I submit it to you but your editorial eyes will scan through and automatically reject it.

Why?

Is it because of how hopeless the scenes seem? Is it the additional character between our leads? Is it the amount of romance we have and the deprivation of the other from your kisses? Is it truly a fault to lock you with me?

I will write again.

This time, I will let you die.


WORD COUNT: 106

Thank you for reading this story. If you want to talk about random things with me, do not hesitate to reach me through my “Contact” page. All the best love, my dear.

let me hold your words before you leave;

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