Tonight I was *****.
I got persuaded by a ten year old boy,
A boy of 6,
Into doing "things".

His supple boy skin,
Mine suppler not even sun kissed,
yet kissing ****.

Tonight. I'm 24.
I hurt from every pore,
As my breathing shallows.

I tried *******, only a taste.
I ate a pin ***** size morsel.
Throat closed, anaphylaxis.
The praxis of finding out, through rashes of histamine.

Every time I shower.
I played in the mud.
Doesn't wash off.
Guilt.

Oh man, how my grandma used to try.
Scrub me.
I'd scrub just as hard,
Till raw in  my arms.

Every evening.
I lay in bed.
contemplate things.
Look at what has happened.
I see him again.
I cry,
I weep,
I spit,
Oh curses.

Can't change it.
Can't take my mouth off his ****.
You know. The good stuff.

Bein' a kid is hard...
Bein' adult that was once a kid is harder'

You know. They used to put us in prison.

Line us up in rows, make us do LOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNGGGGGGGG division.

Walk in a straight line. Hold your inmates hand.

I used to work the problems backwards,
The teachers would get mad at me,
Make me work at their desk,
Knew i must be cheating,
Made me teach class,

I never grew up from that.

I used to think that this happy trail led to a ******,
Once closed up.
I thought I was gay.

Now...I just know that.















Well happy trails aren't always happy.
At least mines finally growing hair.