Some of us don’t shatter. We erode, piece by piece, until all that’s left is a quiet ache mistaken for goodness. This is what it cost me to be so easy to love.
I Wanted to Be Chosen So Bad I Forgot to…
Some of us don’t shatter. We erode, piece by piece, until all that’s left is a quiet ache mistaken for goodness. This is what it cost me to be so easy to love.