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leaning

he’s far away in his head

from bullies in the hall at break.

whereas thoughts fizz

fruitlessly in her skull

like a wasp caught in a jam jar.

he’s not wasting time

contriving

clever comebacks

he’ll never dare utter.

he is removed from pain,

absenting himself

from the narrow worlds

of hurt and revenge,

refusing to engage,

his grey eyes as clear

and uncompromised

as a winter sky.

[My So-called Life was the best high school drama ever made.]

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