dear wren,
today i was in the hopsital. i've been there a lot lately, getting tests done, stuff like that.
they think something's really wrong with me. just because i've been getting chest pains and migraines doesn't mean i'm sick. or does it?
nonetheless, i was hoping you would text me and ask where i was, or what was wrong.
at least you sent me a text at all.
wren: hey, do you think i could copy the english homework down?
me: yeah, sure. i'll text it to you when i get home. see you tomorrow. xx
-grace.
YOU ARE READING
leather jackets.
Genç Kurgu| 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. |
