sixteen march
twelve : thirty-one a.m.

every once in a while, i'd look down at my legs - clad in skinny, dirty-denim jeans - and i'd fool myself into thinking that they were yours. that maybe you were in the car with us, and that i wouldn't have to go a week without seeing you.

music : silence
literature : the missing piece by shel s.
fixation : riley cat; old friends and new friends