The moon, It's beams basking my face. I let a breath escape me, leaning against the steel railing of the balcony. I wish I could stare at the vast space for hours. That is, however, impossible. My grip tightens on the railing, knuckles turning white, I close my eyes, letting my shoulders slump. How tiring this life is. I murmur softly, tone sour. Princess this, princess that. Could they get off my back for a second!? I know a mistress must be found, but could they not rush me?
Comments
8Jeffry woods
Creator
25/03/2025
💚vee the vee💚
11/04/2025