places his hat on her head.
remembers the feeling of his lips.
holds onto the phone of unknown numbers.
"i'm just done."
takes pills slipping them into her mouth.
one.
by.
one.
YOU ARE READING
Cuts.
Nouvellesi drew a butterfly on my wrist, in hopes that this feeling would no longer persist, but things got bad and i started to cry, so the butterfly on my wrist had to die. once again i tried to set myself free, but it seems my thoughts have stolen the ke...
