This was one of the first things I ever wrote while testing the waters of writing.. lol It's incredibly short and isn't very good!!! But I'm gonna post it anyway, maybe to attract people if they think something is here? lol

BOXES

He didn’t draw the boxes anymore.

At least that’s what he told me.

To me the boxes were all different but to him they were all the same. Whether they were orange, green, red, or whatever other color he came up with or if they had a small squiggle where the others didn’t. Each box was a representation of being trapped. AT least that’s what he said. He said the boxes showed him as the object inside the box trying to get free. I didn’t get it. I had asked him one day where the object was and he pointed at himself and said, “Right here.”
“But then wouldn’t that technically mean you were free?” I had questioned.
He just shook his head and turned his head from me. Obviously I didn’t get it he told me.
“Get what?”
“Nothing.” He muttered.

I wish I had gotten it. Maybe things wouldn’t be the way they are now. Maybe things would be different. Maybe I could have helped him. I keep thinking about all these ‘maybe’s’ I could have done. But the one that keeps popping up the most is, if I’d been a better friend, maybe he wouldn’t be dead.