So you do want to know? About "this boy"....?
Well...
Fireworks, but not the good ones.
No, the ones that used to scare you as a kid, because of the light and the noise, like a bomb exploded and you thought a war had begun.
That's what it felt like, the moment he pronounced the word "suicide".
His commitment to suicide was too overwhelming and too terrifyingly big.
I was angry that he wanted to give up, he wanted to leave me behind saying he has no one to rely on while I was standing there, trying to save him.
But if I only knew that every time I tried to heal him, he gave one of his scars to me.
"This boy"...
YOU ARE READING
She.
PoetryIt's about her, that one girl. Everybody knows her name, but no one knows her. (a collection of short texts)