The boy looked around,
the same, its exactly the same
as it was when he left.
Certain things never change.

There were looks,
and then there were stares.

The boy tried to ignore,
overlook them and walk.
He'd have to go through this,
possibly all over again..


Old enemies.
They just never die..
The look on their face,
the look on his face.

--

"Hey gay boy!"
The shout ringed everywhere,
the boy cringed.
Its over.

One of them came over,
the rest circled around him.
He placed his hand on the boy's butt,
the boy closed his eyes.

He could feel it,
that betrayal, that wrongfulness.
He could see it in his eyes,
the pleasure..

or is it guilt?
Misplaced trust.


"Hold his down."
Three pairs of arms landed,
the boy kicked helplessly.

He felt his trousers unbuttoned,
its like before just under daylight.
His privates invaded,
his body exposed.

They threw his clothes in all directions,
swaggered their way.


The boy covered himself,
he flushed red all over.
Naked for all to see..

But it wasnt his body or privates
that he is afraid.
But the beaten scars and marks on his body,
they would all know.

There is laughter
but worse are the murmurs and fingers.


The boy put himself together,
his clothes are all dirty even wet.
So were his eyes..

--

He poured.
Locked himself in four walls and poured.


"Why?!"

"Why do I have to come back here?
Doesnt she understand?
Cant she understand?
This is the cause for all that happened.."

He sat on the toilet seat,
shirtless with his washed shirt in hand.
Hands in his face,
wept uncontrollably.


He punched the wall of the stall,
then collapsed.
The boy wanted to die,
truly wanted to die.

He cowered to the corner
like a defenseless rodent.


"It isnt worth it,
this life isnt worth it."
His hands shook as he retrieved the knife
balanced it over blue river.

He took a breath
and pressed gently first.
His mouth bit onto the wet shirt,
his eyes forcefully shut.

His tears broke out even more so,
he wanted it to end faster.


Another breath.
One forceful push.
It broke.

The river flowed,
or rather poured.
The boy's trance was broken.

He felt something more:
pain.
It felt so real, so alive.


He woke up.