One single tortilla is all it took
Now my face is sandpaper
And I am lost in the fog
How could something so innocent
Throw me over the edge
so violently?
swells of change
Perched at the crow's nest I welcome the brewing gale ideal conditions for a feminine travail
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In the laundry bin, making home next to my socks and underwear, I found a little tube of glossier blush, two square neon magnets, and a spec...
