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“I act through the day like you don’t matter anymore, till my tired bones refuse to carry it to bed. And there the pretense lies crestfallen as tears soaking the pillow, till morning makes it invisible again.” — Nitya Prakash
I act through the day like you don’t matter anymore, till my tired bones refuse to carry it to bed. And there the pretense lies crestfallen as tears soaking the pillow, till morning makes it invisible again.