fifteens and thirties and the in between
fifteen,
he blossoms blue and black,
sometimes garish purple the size of a fist,
a multitude of hues the colour of pain,
there's jeers and taunts,
and barbs and sneers,
and the silent screams of a boy who just wants to be loved.
fifteen,
he hates what he sees in the mirror.
pale, blemished skin,
sunken eyes,
hollowed cheeks,
white lines running across his wrists,
a living corpse,
the empty shell of a world weary youth.
fifteen,
he bleeds red the same,
(oh trust him, he tried)
pains the same,
devastates the same.
(he only loves differently.)
fifteen,
people like him aren't wanted,
he's told,
beings of abomination,
he's called,
freak.
fifteen,
he's disillusioned,
tired,
and he just wants it all to end.
:;
he fails.
(and it's fifteen all over again.)
eighteen,
he breaks a leg to learn a lesson:
that nowhere's safe,
for people like him.
twenty two,
he learns to lie,
and hide
and finally feel right.
twenty seven,
he gets fired anyway,
indecent conduct,
he's later notified.
he's approaching thirty
when he decides he's had enough.
he tries again.
:;
(he fails.)
thirty,
he recalls fifteen,
the first thing he sees is white,
and then red,
blotches and patches,
jagged edges and lumpy skins,
broken and marred.
(but not any less marred than his heart.)
thirty,
he feels fifteen,
glassy eyed and hollowed out,
middle age all but a metaphor,
a distinct dream
of a butterfly spreading his wings.
thirty,
is when the unexpected happens.
thirty,
for the first time after fifteen,
he feels accepted.
it took gashes of red
for his parents to look past pink,
and the other man standing vigil at his side.
thirty,
he allows himself to hope,
to finally live,
and he starts by buying a ring,
and then walking down the aisle.
there's cheers and laughs,
and glee and joy,
and none of that that broke him at fifteen.
thirty,
he sees his reflection,
edges and lines and red,
battle scars at fifteen,
at thirty.
he traces the marks of torment once more,
and lets the love of his life kiss them goodbye.
thirty,
fifteen after fifteen,
and for once in his lifetime,
he thinks he might be okay.
thirty,
he lets fifteen go.