there's a little blue ribbon tied around the small blue eyed boy's wrist, extended into a bow. he picks at it now and then, and there's faint lettering on it, like it touched ink and the ink screamed for help over the shiny fabric.
he doesn't tell anyone about why he wears it, but i remember a teacher telling him to take it off, after one too many kids losing bracelets and rings in the acid we were using.
i remember him shaking his head, insisting that he keep it on, tears welling up in his eyes as the class watched on.
i never quite knew what the ribbon said, because they buried it with him, when they opened his bedroom door and gasped at the pills and found him lying in the bathroom with a smile on his face.
but he once looked at me, and said-
you know, i've never met someone quite as lovely as him.
xx
if i could fly,
s xo
YOU ARE READING
thoughts ≠ sx
Poetrysomething in between a rant book and a book for a girl to ramble in. [ @clairescovers ]
