alouiré
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unspoiled beau, hale of crests. 📧🍊 the divine coastline steers us to descend in its gloaming. for fun, descry several ally at @blairunebot. amuse our summer picks at @evelithe. ୨ৎ‧₊˚.
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653
Repost from N/a
Somewhere in Italy.
It's like echoes floating on a river, remnants of something once tangible now lost in the current. The world seems faded, as if someone's drained its vibrancy, leaving only a shell. Nights are the toughest. The bed feels vast and cold, a stark reminder of their absence. Memories become haunting shadows—every shared moment now tainted by loss, as sharp and unforgiving as shattered glass. Shall we getting a little nigher? A business relations between us, solely on writing service and profile-related needs.
Hear those crestfallent secret through @Morthinebot.
653
Repost from The Lingering Satine Coat.
When the dusty paper speak,
It's strange, this quiet—so vast it wraps around my days, like a sky too big for one set of wings. I wander through familiar places, but everything feels like it’s waiting, paused in a long exhale. The silence has grown too loud, and even the moments that once passed unnoticed now stretch out endlessly.
The sound from my old-piano encouraged me enough to go and search for some other commercial entity. I have specific criteria for business partnerships: I only work with those in the writing industry or profile-related needs. Isn’t it strange how the heart can ache not from loss, but from an emptiness that’s too full of nothing?
For those interested, feel free to message me directly via @vellichorebot.
