sitting on the floor with a drawing pad...
a young boy sketches with a dull leaded pencil
the round edge making fat lines on the paper

a trance fixated within the eyes
a blank stare upon his face
completely unaware of the mess hes made

a single tear wheals up in his eye
slowly it rises and spills over the rim
it creeps down his cheek and roll to his chin

unanimated the boys pencil scribes across the paper
silently the images are cast without thought
and smeared by his hand dragging across the lines
             a single thought enters his mind...

             he thinks outloud to himself...
             "what did i do?"

quietly he sits alone in his room
the only sound comes from the friction on the paper
his pencil nearly worn down to the wood

his left hand unconsciously fidgets with his showlace
while his right hand is terribly busy with the unnoticed art
he stares at the wall but its really not there


listless his eyes appear to wonder unaware
glancing back and forth from the paper to... nothing
the world is invisible

the only thing he sees... other than the smeared images of his sketch
memories he cannot forget
visions he sees in his minds eyes
        a single thought enters his mind...

        he thinks outloud to himself
        "what did i do... that was so bad?"

slowly his eyes fill up with sad
like tiny soldiers falling to their deaths
the tears leap from his eyes

he feels them advancing... running down his face
soothing against the stinging pain
the outline of a hand... welted up the size of a mans

the strawberry that stains his cheek
just below his left eye
seems to swell as he starts to cry

a sound at the door... thump... thump...thump...
quickly he brushes the tears away with his sleeve
erasing all evidence that he is weak

               a brooding voice comes into his space
               "F@&KIN' PU**Y..." says the brood with a smirk on his face

the boy pretends not to notice
absently he shifts his focus... to his sketch
now stained with tears and smeared with neglect

the subconscious thought of his unwielding pencil
the images cast upon the page
the figure of a monster alive and full of rage

smeared across the paper
blurred into the background
its giant hand striking across the face with a smack
           a single thought comes back

           he thinks outloud to himself...
           "what did i do... that was so bad... that i deserved that"