cherubine

To love is to say I'm willing to be torn apart by you, and I will bear every inch of suffering unfolded inside. To love is to devour and be devoured, intimately and void of inhibition to reach the deepest part of you which seems to never end.

perfect and eerie --what once was a trophy of beauty and innocence trapped in delicate porcelain, is now a stakeholder of time in a dusty basement. I love the porcelain doll with curly blonde hair and a broken leg I found tossed in the corner of my parent's basement, now sitting proudly on my shelf with a neat pink bow. she is broken but she is enough.