Two Boys

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His heart is bloody, bruised and broken. His mind is cracked, tormented and lost. His body is his armour, perfect and strong. His life is in ruins, but his castle is still standing.



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There's a baby in his arms, and a blonde boy in his bed.

Three bottles stand in line on his counter, forty pencils lay scattered across his table.

Two boys are building a home out of his broken heart.

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A red toothbrush now stands next to his green one.

There's name brand hair gel in the top drawer of this bathroom cabinet, and a sauce stained shirt reading DADDY'S LITTLE MONSTER lays discarded on his laundry bench.

These things no longer bother him. His heart is slowly mending.

Two boys are lending pieces of their hearts to hold his together.

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He has lunch with his son. Wonders how he could be so big. He see himself in an ecstatic smile. His child is happy to see him. He returns the gesture, a kisses his nose. This boy will never understand the joy he brings to his father.

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He's in a room full of teenagers. His nervous palms are sweaty. These people aren't his usual crowd, but there's a sunshine smile waiting for him four, three, two steps away.

They're moving soon, dancing around the floor. His heart is pounding and his cheeks are aching but his boy is worth the strain.

They take up the whole dance floor. They spin, spin, spin. His mind runs a mile a minute while their souls stand frozen in time. This moment is forever. This moment is there's alone.

Two boys have put the last piece together. The glue that is holding his heart together is drying quickly.

---

His heart is in a million pieces, scattered across a parking garage.

His sunshine is laying there, cold and broken, while he sobs, while he begs, while he crumbles.

There is a peach dress moments later. And he tells her not to look.

'Don't touch him!' He screams.

'Don't break him.' He gasps.

She sobs into her phone as the blood on his hands starts to dry.

---

There are men in jackets that take him, promising not to break him.

One wears a name badge. His name is Gus.

Images of his son race through his mind, and he panics.

Two boys.

One losing his life.

One lost somewhere in a shattered castle, buried deep beneath the rubble of his heart.

He wonders how he will love his son now. Brokenly, bitterly, dreadfully.

Two boys built his heart up, put him back together. Now one boy has a broken father, and the others blood stains his hands, her dress and the concrete floor of a parking garage.