There he is with a glass burn in his chest,  twitching as he bites his nails raw,                                                 half asleep, half dreaming, half not there at all.

He’s such a beautiful boy, his joy is something to behold.                                                                                 Then the monster takes him by the core,                                                                                                           spins around the pain he’s managed to ignore.

Now I leave him pacing on his shore, smiling through his disappointment,                                                     wounded and mighty – plugging back into the curse that feeds him.

(written: 8/1/2007)