Love... this beautiful noun bares its thorns.

I've felt them, and pulling them out was anguish... I'm free.

Now I miss how my blood tainted my own hands knowing I was with him.

Please my love, continue to love me before I soon forget the sensation of those thorns that dug into my skin.

I miss you, I miss pain called love.
  • Nevada
  • JoinedDecember 21, 2015

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Story by ―✗お茶
DEPRIVED || GUZMA by silentdeath87
DEPRIVED || GUZMA
[Guzma × Reader] ❝ DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE YOU UNDERSTAND ME ❞ Being a nineteen year old you were loud and prou...
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