but the stars are falling Westborough State Hospital (psychiatric hospital) 1848 – 2010
two old souls hanging out ragged around the edges perfectly comfortable
she once made me a rag doll with a mop of yellow yarn hair
I’m 16 I smell of Love’s Baby Soft and everything is pink and fresh and romantic like a love letter
I once suggested she have a good cry she said “I’m afraid if I start I’ll never be able to stop”
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