Big Oak Tree

Times when even the safest of havens don’t allow you residence and all you are left with is a pile of dead black leaves of your memories to lie on under the big black oak tree of your fears. The only mates you could have then would be the silhouettes of them from the safe haven you were forced to exile, rummaging around for you, mute and helpless.

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delusionallydestined

I write for people. I write for love. In my world you hear all what remains unheard. I welcome both dark and bright with arms wide open. -MsK

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