( a compound of dogs trained to the knife-click of her stiletto heels. splintered wood, a broken vase, a week's worth of memories — more than enough memorabilia, if they're keeping score. nothing as sentimental as a real goodbye, nothing as permanent as any piece of herself. she's always preferred to be more ghost than girl to the men who couldn't love her right; better to haunt than to hold, remembered more fondly when she's not real flesh and blood in their arms. the ephemeral dream girl.
it feels safer, especially with men like henry, with his favors and ledgers. always keeping track, always staying even, always with his eye trained on what's his. still, she types, a light sidestep away from revisiting history: )
if you wanted an autograph, you could've just said so
no subject
it feels safer, especially with men like henry, with his favors and ledgers. always keeping track, always staying even, always with his eye trained on what's his. still, she types, a light sidestep away from revisiting history: )
if you wanted an autograph, you could've just said so