Bee_poppity
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Summary
In the odd hours of yearning, early in their time, the embrace of loneliness was all too tight.
Its hold sturdy, hands cold like ice, burning marks into the already marred soul. Its whispers seductive, filled with heavy layers of frustration and resentment.
A far too tempting melody for broken minds, burdened by their fate.
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To be loved is to be known. And you can’t love that which you never knew.