At lunch I saw Cassidy, I turned my head and looked at S. P. Whitman. She smiled and it killed me. She didn't eat today. Were things getting worse? She knows she can talk to me whenever she needs help. She does know that right?
YOU ARE READING
The Leftovers
Teen FictionI had become a leftover. I am nothing more than a plate of food he forgets about, And soon he will dispose of me. He comes to me when he is hungry for love, I feed him hoping he'll stay, But he leaves. Because that's all I am to him, Just a leftover.
