MyaLavi
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She hates meA Story by MyaLaviAlice I marched up the tall, wet stairs leading up to the school bus. I think the bus driver said something to me, but my own thoughts in my own littl.. |
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Alice's NoteA Story by MyaLaviDeath is an art, and I, it’s painter. Art is always judged, and let’s face it. It’s so much easier to sit there and judge the art i.. |
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A life no longer my own.A Story by MyaLaviIt slipped through my fingers, as if I was trying to grasp water with my bare hands. No matter how tight I clenched my fists, no matter how quick I w.. |
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