epitomeofemotions LAST WORDS ARE MEANT TO BE EMOTIONAL LACERATED INFATUATION, NOTIONS.
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Every time you refuse to acknowledge. In the hope that they. And call them gorgeous instead. Actually putting yourself on a pedestal. That they being who they are. In their shape and their form. For you not only to refuse to. You can call a fat person. It just feels that way.
We seek for Heaven yet we refuse die. Tomorrow when I see us. In the future that is yet to come. I want to be your reflection on the ocean. And you being the Sun.
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He held her gaze from the corner of the room. His eyes laid on her as if no other person existed except her. His looks caressed her as she is the most precious belonging he owned. He made an eye contact with me again and there was an unsaid apology for the delay.
A look on my writing! ZERO IS A FULL CIRCLE. MIDNIGHT MEMORIES AVEC MA SOEUR. Your new friend on LET FREEDOM REIGN. Your new friend on A MORTAL DAY.
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Rants about broken hearts and broken lives. My name is Vartika, and I am afraid of my mind. I wake up a new person everyday. I know I am different, we are all different. And in all our differences, we are just like everyone else. These blogs are rad! .
When i lost hope for connection or conversation. When the confines of my yellow room made the only space that comforted me, but threatened to swallow me if i stuck too long. My last residue of curiosity, clung on to an engaging story. Which seamlessly opened a minuscule gateway.