sometimes, i can feel it course through my veins.
it burns a little, actually.
it dances through my body, much like when his fingertips ghosted over my skin.
it curls in and out of my veins and capillaries, leaving poisonous wisps in its wake.
i haven't left this room in weeks.
the next time i leave this room i'll be dead.
but it'll be better.
nothing will hurt anymore.
for now, i can sit here and feel the warmth of the sun through the window.
maybe, i can find a way out of here, and die outside of these walls.
YOU ARE READING
menthols.
Novela Juvenilshe did it for a reason. and left one thing behind. • lowercase intended • completed at 1400 words
