"Be unassuming. Otherwise, you'll cry."

You.

Me — i.e, jpenseur


I thought that, after everything, we could never be strangers. Strange as it is, your person no longer wanders in my mind. All that's left is a white silhouette, like how you cut out pictures from a magazine. With no substance, you don't hurt me. I'm finally fine, and I'm radiating from the inside. I think I would like to paint on the blank space you left behind. 

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