You spoke silence.
I recognized your gaze.
I questioned if I was the only person to notice your pain,
because you showed the same symptoms that I once carried.
Emotions threatened to engulf you in pure darkness.
With every heartrending glance your way,
I contemplated taking action.

You distracted yourself with thoughts of algebra and equations.
You twiddled your thumbs.
I didn’t flee to comfort you and instead
became accustom to the rhythm of
your legs that jittered, to the beat of your aching heart.
I took plenty of peeks at your sorrowful face.
But always, upon my desk, an assortment of x and y
demanded my undivided attention.
I regret not taking action
because those few peeks
were the last anyone ever saw of you.