I closed my mouth and spoke to you in a hundred silent ways.
Favorite Pottermore Artwork
treat me like a college textbook. spend lots of money on me but never touch or look at me
What was I going to say? Something about the violent moods of my soul. I think I grow more and more poetic. Perhaps I restrained it, and now, like a plant in a pot it begins to crack the earthenware.
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Sometimes I am scared that my soul is
just too big
for someone to share their life with me.
Maybe because this soul of mine,
Like the way a man holds the steering wheel
or sips his drink.
Is my soul too big for a person to want
a forever with someone…