Resurrecting the stench . . .
No one is undeserving, no, not one . . .
I really want to know what the basis of such brutal moral judgement is, and why we have somehow become addicted to digging out skeletons that have long decayed.
It's funny how we all change, somehow. It's inevitable. Even when we never really mean to.
Dear Me, This is a letter to the girl I used to be . . .