Mar 2015
Oh, his little bruises.
His little scrapes.
All his little stars in his pocket
or on his sleeve,
his hair tumbling around his face like rain,
like all his little tears.
There are little flecks of blood under his nails,
but he was blushing in the dark.
His little scrapes.
All his little stars in his pocket
or on his sleeve,
his hair tumbling around his face like rain,
like all his little tears.
There are little flecks of blood under his nails,
but he was blushing in the dark.
please stop coming to class with stitches and black eyes and expecting me to be okay with it
