The poem was written by Amanda Patton, so all credit goes to her.
I knew a boy who liked to draw
He drew pictures that nobody saw
Carlos had always been a quiet child. His mother, Cruella, had been a harsh and unforgiving presence in his life who'd raised him using fear as a motivator. Still, she was his mother. No matter what rules there were or weren't on the Isle, he could never leave her. And besides, what good could he be on his own? He was worthless, useless, couldn't do anything right. It was with these thoughts swirling in his head that he snuck to the kitchen to pilfer the sharpest knife he could find.
He was more artistic late at night
In the bathroom, out of sight
After the first cut, it became harder to resist. How could he not, when it was such a relief from the anguish in his head. He could never place exactly what caused all his feelings, but he knew he could never share them with anyone. Carlos had to be careful. He wore his shorts, as per usual, but now only wore his long-sleeved shirts. He no longer cut when the urge struck, but saved it up, mulling over the thoughts in his head for the day. At night, he'd release all the pain, clearing his mind and marking his arm.
He kept a secret no one knew,
He didn't tell soul and his gallery grew
Two years on from the first cut and Carlos was convinced that he was doing the right thing. His forearm was marred, but at least he wasn't falling into the trap of the Isle. He could be good, he could choose to never harm anyone. All he had to do was to let go and release all the anger with the pain. He clutched his small knife tighter and broke the skin once more.
His drawings were different, no paper or pen
But needed a bandage now and again.
When Carlos met Jay it was one of the best days of his life. The tall boy had swaggered up to him and stroked his face and petted his hair. And Carlos had grabbed Jay by the wrist just before he stole the chain he wore around his neck. From then on it was amazing. They ran together, stole together, played together. And over time he fell more and more in love. He had a few close calls with Jay, and sometimes had to hastily shove a band-aid over a cut when Jay knocked on his window to pick him up. But it was fine. It had to be fine.
We stood by the river under the stars,
He rolled up his sleeves and showed me his scars.
When Jay took Carlos out, he was more excited than usual. Jay was chattering on, but refused to tell Carlos where they were going. Eventually, he insisted that Carlos close his eyes. Carlos felt two warm hands on his, steadily steering him forward. Then, when they'd stopped, he tentatively opened his eyes. In front of him was the most beautiful river he'd ever seen. A few broke away from the sea and into the Isle, but this was positively the bluest and cleanest he'd seen. Carlos turned to Jay and as he looked up into dark eyes, he knew now was the time, and perhaps the only time, to reveal his scars. He looked down and with trembling hands, he rolled up his sleeves – first the left then the right.
He felt embarrassed and looked down at his shoe,
Then I rolled up my sleeves and whispered "I draw too."
He couldn't bring himself to turn his head up again. He held his arms out like an offering, and let Jay judge him for what he was. Tears started to drip onto his shoes, as Jay said nothing and he realised that Jay knew that he wasn't good enough – could never be good enough – to be friends with, let alone to love.
Then, a warm hand gently caressed his face, and tipped his head up, so their eyes connected once more. In Jay's eyes, Carlos couldn't see any of the disgust or horror he was expecting, just endless love and sympathy. Jay pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, then released his chin, slowly rolling his sleeves up as Carlos had done moments before. Matching lines criss-crossed over his skin, and Carlos gasped as he understood.
"Everyone's a little damaged" Jay whispered in Carlos' ear, as they embraced each other, finally seeing and accepting all of each other and themselves.