i am a beautiful and fucking ugly thing
so live. create. kill.
I’m sitting in the library thinking of him. Next to me is my backpack - one that I often mistreat by making it carrying the burdens of my life. Books, keys, loose papers, and drinks to keep my going through the day, while others make fun of me. Sometimes, I laugh too; other times, I want to defend it, because it carries my heart as well.
Not safely but better than most ever have.
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