Hear me out. When I was younger and riding in trucks with boys who didn't care about me, climbing back in the first-story window wearing their sweatshirts and their scent on my skin, I didn't yet know what it meant to be alive, to be free. We used to sit… Read on blog or Reader Eunoia Review Read on blog or Reader Midwinter perfectsublimemasters May 31 Hear me out. When I was younger and riding in trucks with boys who didn't care about me, climbing back in the first-story window wearing their sweatshirts and their scent on my skin, I didn't yet know what it meant to be alive, to be free. We used to sit by the reeds and no […] Continue reading Comment Like You can also reply to this email to leave a comment.

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