He was thoughtful, not necessarily with his words but with his soul stares and his finger tips. His half cup of coffee showed me he wasnβt alive enough to bear me. My mind with itβs dark swollen musings, Meh. Never mind that though, he would always swallow me, whole and without regret, tenderly with a [β¦]
βIf a man knows more than others, he becomes lonely.β β Carl Jung
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