It was the way he chewed on his nails until his fingers were raw.
The way he trembled and studdered and looked around like he was watching out for something.
Fidgeting and stumbling on his words,
hesitating and shaking as he spoke,
I could see the anxiety in his eyes as he answered the question “are you almost finished with your work?”
yes, I am almost finished no, I do not want any help I can’t breath please -
don’t ask me any more questions.
Shaken to the core I could see it in his face,
the young boy sitting in that desk
struggling to keep his pencil from tap-tap-tapping on his books
his fingernails soon to be non existent