No more recess

Where did the days go
when fifth grade boys

didn't promote butterflies
poorly taped to pornographic flyers?

Before I realized
Disney Land held no romantic notions;

It was just the last stop for
broken families and unhappy spouses.

Dusk held night's
most arbitrary promises

while we sped through
town wasting

undying wishes and thoughtless
notions without recourse.

Raising our feet above,
what I considered,

untrustworthy floorboards
in the backseat of

your rust-bucket car;
what limits do underdeveloped hands know?

Ignorant ideas
of sex remained

stuffed in the depths
of my mother's closet.

Unfilling lovers scribbled
their signatures into

my arms while raping
my unanswered questions.

I buried my face into
your scarred chest...

breathing in what seemed
to be self-inflicted tragedy.

Looking back,
I felt entitled to be your

cause of misery.