what if the voice inside your head is your soulmate’s
well then my soulmate sure is an asshole
The not-so-grown-up adventures of an English professor.
I wrote a poem about it, and then threw it away, because that’s the last thing I need right now: More words dedicated to people who will never dedicate a single thing to me.
I’m afraid that if you look at a thing long enough, it loses all of its meaning.