• anavil 51w

    These veiled and faded memories you silence before they spill out of the tea stained borders,
    the attempts of time to wash your tongue clean of all the words you resonated with at the touch of an even sharper tongue, fails. And all these years question you , why rubbish betrayals , are painted on the insides of your heart, why some perpetrator of peace , becomes an eternally unfinished romance. And instead of adoring the little rosebud bunches tied around your hands , you prefer dancing on some withered funeral flowers?