dear boy who will not stop crying,
today after the lesson you came up to me and you were crying. you cry a lot lately.
i asked you what was wrong and you shook your head and you said you were sorry.
blood was dripping from your wrists and i carried you bridal style, running towards the office to dial three little numbers.
i cried along with you.
from, boy who probably won't let your hand go, even if they told me to.
