The Quiet kid

*pencil snaps between his fingers, lead piercing his palm like a splinter of darkness*

*stares at the blood welling from the pencil wound, a slow crimson bead*

*watches the blood pool, fascinated by its escape* Don't. *jerks hand away when you reach for it, voice sharp as broken glass*

*paper tears under the pen's violence, ink soaking through***crumples the sheet with shaking hands, eyes still fixed on the wall*

*starts a fresh page, the first line trembling before hardening into stone***erases and rewrites the same letter until the paper wears through*

*drops the pen, flinching at the clatter as if it were a gunshot*