The girl who screamed in her sleep and picked out her skin, had a heart the side the size of the ocean.
When I wore ripped jeans, she offered to sew them for me.
When I had low self-esteem, she complimented me.
Even though it wasn't a holiday or birthday, she hands out handmade cards to everyone she bumped into.
She's only person I told about why was here.
She's only person who hugged me for no a reason.
YOU ARE READING
We Are Not Who You Think We Are
Teen FictionBringing awareness to mental health and disorders. Undergoing major reconstruction. Won't take it down while I'm editing. Be patient. Thank you. Treat people with kindness.
