The World Of Lies

My writings are about you. You when you’re asleep, you when you’re talking, you when you’re holding me. Maybe I’m obsessed with trying to weave you into my world of words and stories because I wish to find a piece of you in it that nobody else has. And even if they are just falsified accounts and made-up testimonies of our time together, I take comfort in the fact that in my writings you belong to nobody else but me.

– a.h.

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