withered & wilted

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What’s left of me be close to nothingness — I’ve lost my passion for life, and all of my memories have gone sour.

I want — rather, I need rest, I say, and perhaps being stripped of everything that I’ve ever known, embodied, and needed be necessary for a grand surrender.

(pinterest)

I don’t hold much left that is worth saving by the means of grace— simply, I must wait for an empathetic wind to set me free.

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antisocial butterfly
antisocial butterfly

Written by antisocial butterfly

avid writer inspired by nature, daydreams, & sentimentality

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