i saw a boy today, during spare period.
i've never seen him before.
he was tall and slim and wore a hoodie over his uniform shirt.
i couldn't see his name tag, so i furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.
he had fluffy, brown hair that hid his eyes, but i could tell that they were content, calm eyes.
but on that face...
there were no cracks.
his skin was unblemished, untouched.
it was as smooth as a baby's.
how?
was that even possible?
every single person i encounter on the streets, at school, in stores, they all had at least one crack with varied sizes, depending on how hurt they were.
this boy had none.
was he perfectly satisfied with his life?
did words not get to him?
was he unbothered?