You are the first person that said "you are beautiful" that I actually believed

I always come to you when i’m tired of life
Sticks and stones break bones, words cut like a knife
Sometimes i can’t sleep, i lie awake in my bed
Staring at the sky, dark, like the thoughts in my head
I, often, wonder what happens to the soul when you die
Does it roam free in paradise..can it walk, can it fly?
Will i see my grandparents, uncle, and father there?
Will anyone on earth even notice or care?
Will my body just rot on this bed that i made
While memories of me so soon they will fade
The answer to these questions, i won’t know for a while
So i’ll keep pretending as i walk around with a smile
Because i don’t have the guts to put a blade to this wrist
And i don’t have a gun to blow my brains into bits
So, i’ll keep living the same day every day
And turn to you when i have something to say
Because it’s you i come to when i’m tired of life
Sticks and stones break bones, words cut like a knife..

I just wanted to be
your tugboat captain,
your name engraved
on the hull, my name
enmeshed with your
skull.

Dance around in your tutu,
yes, suspended on one toe,
yes, now slip it off &
crawl into the bath.

I just wanted to be
your tugboat captain,
your skin wrapped
around the mast, your
skeleton draped upon
the shaft.

Look up at me with blue eyes, yes,
open up your pink mouth, yes,
now steer with your feet &
take us to the mainland.

His Down's Syndrome makes
His age a tough guess, I'll
Say eight to ten.

Wide eyes on machines,
Ice cream dripping on the
Pavement outside the

Construction site.
I wanna work like this when
I grow up, he says in

Young enthusiasm to a mother
Whose eyes well up with
Gratitude when I approach

And kneel down in front of
Him. So you want a job,
Buddy? I ask him with a

Wink. He suddenly remembers
His ice cream and bites into
It shyly. Nods, glancing at the

Tools in my belt, the scratches
On my arms, the brick wall
I've been attacking with a

Wacker jackhammer. Nods
Again. Well, I'll see you in a
Few years, I say with another

Wink, this time to his mother,
Who'd look her young age if
Her eyes weren't as tired,

But you can start with this
And get some practice. I hand
Him my Stanley Fat Max

Hammer. His ice cream
Hits the ground as he
Recieves it with both hands,

Looking to his mother for
Confirmation that it's ok.
Oh, it is. She mouths a

Thank you SO much...
They walk away, his chatter
High pitched and fading

Around the corner. And I
Head over to the foreman to
Report that I lost my hammer.

Don't ever employ me.
I can work a good game, but
I'm too soft around little heroes.