Your frail, bird wing shoulders, the porcelain slip of your skin, the delicate bones that keep you grounded. Everything about yourself that you hate but I love. The softness of your stomach, the strength of your heart, the contrast of your tiny freckles. My sparrow, my dove, my everything, some day you will fly free from your body; I just ask that I may hold it one last time before you escape.
(Source: sundaymorningchange)
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