I once knew a boy
who perceived the darkness in me
as if it was some benign escape into light
sweet and warm
almost fireworks.
Little did he realize--
fireworks are explosives too.

I once knew a boy
who lit up more houses than he was invited to.
He was a match in a fire place
the slap of a broken flashlight against a palm
a candle illuminating barely visible text
and a scorn of "I never asked for this."

I once knew a boy
who was so bright that he burned the sight out of every eye that looked.
He would apologize
remainder of green-veined eyelids
stuck in its trap of reincarnated ashes
held like water in cupped hands
wrinkled with healed burns,
lacking time.

I once knew a boy
who I promised would never become a victim to the account of my life
that I would never let his most used adjective become "once."

I once knew a boy
whose hands shook terribly bad
when I asked him to load my promises in his mouth
and hold them to my head.  

I once killed a boy
who played with fire
before accidents could replace me.