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Mar 2019
you’re worth someone’s scratch
in their book,
every dots, space and the smudge—
as you busy questioning your value
someone’s smearing their ink to make each of your every breath a poetry.
for every word that born—
you blow spirit to them,
brought them to life.
—in the end, there’ll always be someone who loves you. they’re just not as loud.
winter child
Written by
winter child  F/ID
(F/ID)   
  469
     reignier and wren, Em MacKenzie and Fawn
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