I can’t remember how his hands looked like, but I remember how warm they were. Those hands… The hands who held on until the end. 

What’s wrong with me?

I can’t remember how his hands looked like, but I remember how warm they were. Those hands… The hands who held on until the end.

What’s wrong with me?


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ABOUT

neverendingprovidenceI'm Strange.
Make me laugh and you'll have my heart.
Art and photography enthusiast.
I love books.
My name is Hannah.

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