Slimersonington

she was perfect to me. the smell of her skin was everything to me. i was also scared of her; she sometimes put her head on my lap and i could feel her pulse beating through my denim jeans. one of her teeth was chipped, and i called her my runaway because she left home at 17. i smelled like cotton mist after it rained she had said, i wondered if she wanted to die with me, if it would make her happy to have a gravestone next to mine. if her parents would still put flowers on her grave. we met one cloudy day in may, there was fog all over her windowsill, and she had bright brown eyes that trickled tears when she talked about herself. i wanted