Skip to content








In this place so public that it’s private, you can call me Drucilla, Demetria or Cakegurl. They’re all mine, every one of these names, a lie I can defend. And this, best I can explain it, is the world’s worst love letter, which might sound shitty but is honestly so fucking sad and sweet that you might want to fuck off now or tongue a chalky antacid in anticipation.

Published inUncategorized

Be First to Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *