A bunch of a hundred timy butterflies rose up in the sky, filling the empty air with their beautiful colourful wings. And at the end of the field in which I was standing, a little boy was catching butterflies, clipping their wings free of their body, and placing them in a dusty jar. That was the field in my head right then. That was my world. Wild and beautiful. Hopeless and sad. And always mine...
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@annasofia
Grew under the sunshine and the salty air of a long forgotten island situated in the middle of nowhere. Currently I'm lost in between countries and leaving airplanes trying to figure out too many things and a life complicated to the core.
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