dear wren,
i'm in a load of pain.
i look absolutely vile, like a chipmunk that's about to explode.
i'm really ready to come home.
i really wanna see you.
it's been over a week since our last encounter.
my mom probably told you where i am, if you even asked. i would really like it if you came. life in a hospital is very bland, and it smells like disinfectant and death.
-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. |
