we found sam
sitting alone in the dark
he tried to move
we kept a close eye on him
sam was a solitude sort who could easily contort his limbs and senses in an effort to abort this mission of living one day at a time with rerun shows and pathetic mimes who hope you’ll try to understand the box their trapped inside, fuck you, it’s the same as mine.
sam knew that.
sam knows that.
though he wouldn’t have told you through that toothy grin and bowl cut hairdo, lower lip quivering when you’d give him attention. a standard smile wide eyed hoping you’d succumb to his defenses. set in motion by an impenetrable weakness his dad gave him for forgetting to close cupboards and turn off lights.
he wished dad would say goodnight.
once in a while
sam didn’t care if it was through song
like the other kids
he knows he’s not his sunshine
no, dad stumbles through the kitchen counting utensils a spoon to simmer his eyes closed.
sam was seventeen when the words came without questions, when he stopped responding, instead defining what would be his next move
when he thought he found it
they came in and ruined everything