
taken from a balcony in the middle of nowhere new york, dawn breaking like an egg spilling over the clouds.
taken from a balcony in the middle of nowhere new york, dawn breaking like an egg spilling over the clouds.
submission for next year's challenges :D
Describe your home - outside or inside. What about it feels like your home, or not? What makes a home in your mind?
does anybody else get that feeling deep in their chest, sharp like it's begging to come out but also soft as in fire soft, embers in a hole in the ground?
this president can turn even the solemnest of holidays into an opportunity to say whatever he wants. the gravestones crumble in their fields of poppies listening to him speak. all uppercase. all lies.
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