Dear Ballerina Boy,
I'm in the hospital. I tried to kill my self a couple of weeks ago, the only thing that they will let me keep here from home is this note book. Thank God. I think I would go crazy without it, I need a way to talk to you after all.
I have to move back in with mum for a while until they all decide I'm well enough to live on my own again.
I miss you,
Ashton xx
YOU ARE READING
Ballerina Boy ➵ Cashton
PoetryHis voice in this room, like shadows on walls, I imagine him on the other side of the door His words, his voice, his touch, At the start, the end, and in the middle Strange how it mattered so...
