So here’s the eye poetry.“I believe that eyes are windows to the soul. Mines broken (child hood traumas I’m finally starting to work through) so...my soul is shattered into millions of pieces. Like shards of a smashed window on an icy night. Some blood stained. I don’t like showing it off. I don’t like being that naked, vulnerable, and open. So, l hide the Windows so no one can look in.” I said.“That's the thing sweetie, and I'm sure M agrees, the fractured splinters or glass, when forged back. We hopped in the shower and washed eachother all over. She rubbed her hand over my pussy a couple times and over my breasts. We hopped out of the shower and dried of and put on are clothes.'Sam where are your parents?''Their out till tomorrow so this place is all ours!!'I went to my bag and popped out a bottle of bundie and coke.'What are you doing Ell?''Getting drunk, what you doing?''Drinking underage is against the law!''Who cares babe have some.'We drank the whole 2 bottles i packed and we. More

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