I have a story in my head

Come, tell me about unhappiness,

I have a story in my head.

It begins with my eyes,

and ends with my eyes.

I have seen a boy hide behind a door to

to burn inside another boy. He says it is love.

My father disagrees. He finds me in another boy and

tries to misspell my name on my back with a rod.

Mother erases it with balm, and a rainbow appears.

I have seen my brother's closet twice.

It is always clean but empty. Mine is filled with

things mother says father must never see.

So, I stay inside, until father comes knocking.

I never open.

I have seen a boy taste berries of a girl and

spit it out. He knows it is not his.

Cucumbers are better.

I write my girlfriend's name in BLOCK letters.

Only mother can read lies.

What do you do when you can't remember

to love a girl, not a boy?

I hug mother every morning. I am her son.

I know only the night wears darkness so perfectly well

like my father. He approaches me and I think it

wants to rain. I cannot see his face.

I can only hear my voice

breaking.