Grace
I wake with my shirt cold and wet, stuck to my chest with the memories I relive instead of forget.
The nights that we danced and laughed that we were the luckiest. To sit with Monet and listen to stri…
I wake with my shirt cold and wet, stuck to my chest with the memories I relive instead of forget.
The nights that we danced and laughed that we were the luckiest. To sit with Monet and listen to stri…