HeartxOnMyxSleeve : Writing

Forgotten Mornings.

Forgotten Mornings.

A Story by HeartxOnMyxSleeve


It's just breakfast...right?
Hazy Tuesdays

Hazy Tuesdays

A Poem by HeartxOnMyxSleeve


The morning sun, breaks in the east. A chripping swallow, swallows it's final feast. The bed is warm, and the residents are tired. The workday..