Woken by winter chills, windsground’s snowblanket sparklingin what few casts of sunlight peekbetween gray — a fog of a sky
sometimes i hate myself so much i shudder with iti have inflicted unspeakable suffering on everyone i’ve ever lovedall…
Good morning, April. Welcome back.I missed you. Who are you this year?Warmhearted friend or jesting jack?Or both? You…