fifth grade and you were silent. the girls kept building your bad boy fortress. the boys kicked you off their football team. i kept watching.
i watched as the air encircled around you, dripping with loathing and hatred and bitterness.
(and loneliness.)
i knew if i reached out and swiped at the air around you, my fingers would glisten with the iridescent dewdrops of your suppressed tears.
i kept my swiping fingers to myself.
