spilled ink

vingt

i was sitting next to a broken boy on a couch with the back against a wall with chipped paint
i looked down,
my hair falling in my face with a sharp pain in my chest
i desperately wanted to cry and release the pain but the tears wouldn't come
i felt his gaze and i looked up at him with watery eyes
his brown eyes looked sad and the bags under his eyes represented his lack of sleep
"don't think, don't worry about it. everything will be ok. just don't think." he simply stated
i immediately started to cry, and he pulled me in for a hug
those were the words that i needed to hear