dear wren,
do you remember the day we first met?
it was just last year, our sophomore year of high school.
you were standing all alone in that leather jacket of yours that smells like cigarettes and moth balls.
you still wear it, even though it's tattered and old.
i think it looks lovely on you.
-grace.
YOU ARE READING
leather jackets.
Teen Fiction| you were standing all alone in that leather jacket of yours that smells like cigarettes and moth balls. you still wear it, even though it's tattered and old. i think it looks lovely on you. |
