13/02/17 03:48 PM
I didnt understand why you always looked so sad.
During lunch when we sat on those fold down chairs.
you bragged about how you knew multiplication but in-between I saw you stabbing at your arm
with the plastic forks they gave us with the school lunch.
At your house like always I poked fun at you and I didn't understand why this time you started to cry. Why were you so sensitive your room was so nice. I was so blinded by your house by the fairy lights strung up across your chair and by the lizard that inched around in its little. Plastic. Cage. I didn't get it when you showed me your diary
It was a sunny ice cream cheery day and across the playground I saw your head was laying in the nook of your mom's neck.
You looked sad again and she did too she was swaying a bit. And I was embarrassed for you. In public with your mom. I would never. We were 7 too old for moms.
But you didn't care your were soft and you were quiet and it was like you couldn't hear the laughter around you or the sound of the the scooters rolling around in the playground surrounding you. And I didn't understand what you were doing.
After that I didn't see your mom again and when you came to school a week later. Below your eyes raw from tears. I knew you had cried.
The teachers told us to be sensitive.
