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Stories by Sunday
Milk and Coffe
I don't know how to think about you without it breaking my heart. I don't know how to not want to possess you.
Coming Home
They say home is where the heart is. If that's the case, I haven't been home for a while now.
Just Mine (H.S.)
There was noise. So much noise. And there were so many people. Drunk, 'in your face' people.
I was alone whe...