his flannel was red.
on him it fit perfectly.
but on her it was too large.
she wore his flannel, every night.
hoping that one day he would come back.
YOU ARE READING
flannel
Poetry{o n g o i n g} his flannel was the only piece of him she had left. copyright © toxicluxe 2014
00:02
his flannel was red.
on him it fit perfectly.
but on her it was too large.
she wore his flannel, every night.
hoping that one day he would come back.