how can so much pain
fit in the frame of a boy your age?
How do you hold so much weight
with your slender;
tender stature?
sometimes i see it escape,
in drips from your face
that no one else seems to trace
the load you carry isn't even yours
it's your mother's
it's the man who calls himself your father's
it's the death of so many people
each a bead strung on line of your memory
that you wish didn't exist.
it makes it
so hard
to love  you,
because of this thick skin that has developed around your heart,
and your hopes
like rings on a tree trunk.
but so loveable, so helplessly loveable...
I need to count your rings.