He lived on an island, generated where his mind is, his own place he can hide in, somewhere private. When he closed his eye lids.

Because reality was hell-ish, wanted to be selfish had to be self-less, or his siblings would tell shit, and then you can hear his scream every time the belt hit.

Sometimes dad went a little too far, got a little too angry, hit a little too hard. And he would blame his job, and the fact he has no car, for the reasons he left bruises on his arm.

Pause

He would yell like, you know what happens if you tell right? I could make your life a living hell right? You gunna tell the teachers that you fell right?

And at school all the teachers peeped it, but they all kept it a secret, at the play ground he got the same treatment, home and school the weak kid gets beatings.

He would always hold his tears, because if he cried they would scold him here, older kids throw stones and cheer, and all of his peers called him weird.

Art class was his favorite, he would draw all of these places where suns had faces and he rode on spaceships he could escape in.

His mom seen everything he would draw, literally when she was high that’s what she saw.

Pause

Her head stayed spinning, when her trips kept tripping, for days she went missing, can’t walk down the block without seeing people that hit it. It’s sickening. Looking for a needle to stick in, if they were treating she’s tricking.

It hard he’s getting tough like brillos, at night weeping like willows, holding on to his pillow, wondering if he would feel pain if he jumped out of the window.

His dad came home one afternoon, running low on cash and food, spent his last stack on booze, obviously this sparked his attitude. And he was sitting in his room. as his let his dad intrude. He knew what that would do.  He turned his white skin black and blue.