dry it up how I cringe when I think of those words he's in the front seat i'm sobbing in the back d r y i t u p
if only i could if only that would fix everything if i could dry it up i would
Beth Anne, Author
tthrows metal with mittens on in the dead of winter listening to the cold as it echoes down the streets and into her bones. consecrated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, navigating these streets and figuring out this GPS, and trying real hard to reach Sainthood. failing miserably every day. trying again every tomorrow.