p o e t r y

54

"You are going to be okay" he whispered to her, as they sat cross legged, wearing layers upon layers soaked limply on the shower floor.

"The thought that when you were 17 and the edge of a cliff was more appealing than your next cigarette." "As you wake up one morning, years or just months from now, I promise you, you'll see it was all worth it and just maybe, you'll think how the boy with the cold hands and dead eyes was in some way right."

A/N

song for this poem is unsteady by x ambassadors