i met a lost boy once
he had brown eyes and black hair
and everything was an adventure for him
he laughed at the saddest of things
and made jokes about death
his name was charlie, like the chocolate factory
he would joke and he would smoke
cigarettes for no particular reason other than
he liked to light things on my fire
and maybe that should have worried me but
i was too busy getting lost in the way he said
my name and how easily it rolled out of his mouth;
like it was fate
he always loved the idea of fate and destiny
said that everything had to happen for a reason or else
what was the point of anything?
he always asked questions like that
although he always used to say it in this way like
he was afraid of the answer
//
charlie's got a quick hand
and he told me the other day he was fine
but i didn't believe him because
he didn't say my name the way he's supposed to
and he doesn't make jokes about death anymore
instead he just looks at the window and thinks
out loud about how very pointless everything is
and he doesn't light cigarettes anymore which
should be a good thing except he's taken to lighting other
things on fire now like the flesh of his own skin
and i can hear him scream at night because the tears
burn him more than anything
//
i met a lost boy once, he hated the beach
but loved the sand
and he smoked cigarettes because
he loved to light things on fire
but to be perfectly honest
he was never really that lost
he just never really wanted to be found

(h.l.)