you came to room 901 that night
the room where I slowly fell to
pieces
and I forgot the tubes attached to me
and I sat up and I looked closer
and your cheeks were wet
and your eyes asked countless questions
but your hands grabbed a paper from the nightstand and they scribbled only one:
will you be okay, jack? -p
YOU ARE READING
❝ p o l l y ❞
Short Storyin which; a boy with leukaemia writes to a girl that goes by the name Polly. lower-case intended. all rights reserved. copyright © 2014 | -retrospect-