A seed of discontent.
The fly in the ointment.
The pea that ruins all good princesses sleep.
When the pen is taken from my hand, it is very hard to see myself as
anything more than these.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe
Post-note: Yes, I know these are only the mad whisperings of an
insecure and chemically flawed mind, but I hear them just the same. And they
wear on one.
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