the look of love
summer dies here, and so could I
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It’s not that I don’t care. But I do.
Even when the news comes while walking on a bright, brisk morning, something inside me goes still. And the messenger will look on me with kind, sympathetic eyes. Perhaps I’m just not fucking jaded enough to believe in the innate evil of humanity. Or maybe I’m naive to think that people still care.
Well, I do.
I do care if you’re cold, if you’re fed