HEY, LOOK AT ME!
The tears fell silently and I brushed them away, not wanting Justin to see. Not wanting them to fall on the page and ruin these beautiful words. Not beautiful because they painted a pretty picture… beautiful because finally, I was getting a glimpse of the real Justin. The lonely, sad, heartbroken boy who desperately wanted to be loved.
I turned another page.
Bottled Up
I toss out another lie and a smile that’s just for show.
I’m bottled up and hidden, but you’ll never know.
Your oblivion is my only crutch.
Close your eyes so you don’t see too much.
I’ve never been the guy with his heart on his sleeve,
But you don’t always have to see to believe.
I open up and you shut me down.
I feel like a prince who has lost his crown.
But I’m fine, and it’s okay.
It never fit right anyway.
I’ve never been one to beg…
So, go ahead and knock me down another peg.
It felt almost wrong, reading these words. Seeing the pain he kept hidden so well behind his flirtatious smiles and teasing words. But I was addicted. I was a girl obsessed, hooked on discovery. Reverently, I flipped the page and came to his latest entry. The words Justin wrote after hightailing it away from my family. I sniffled and curled forward, hoping this final poem gave a hint in how to help him.
Empty House
I’m a pawn and your life is a game.
Nothing real, just a picture in your frame.
This cold, empty house is all an act.
It’s really just broken and cracked.
Hang me like a trophy on the wall.
Use me to show how you have it all.
I’ve seen how a family should really be.
And you’re nothing but a pretend father to me.
“I’m no Whitman or anything.” Justin’s timid voice snapped me back to the moment, and I raised my head, realizing just how long I’d been reading.
Overhead, the sun was giving its last hurrah, bathing the sky in deep orange, purple, and red. Its reflection on the pond’s surface along with the scattered trees and old, weathered dock painted a picture of total peace and contentment.
The juxtaposition of the image and his troubled words themselves was sort of poetic.
“You have to know how incredibly talented you are,” I murmured, not wanting to break the spell that had fallen. Justin had let me into his secret world. Showed me what a deep, sensitive person he really was. The thought that he’d now close up or regret sharing his words with me terrified me.
He’d already told me about his absentee dad and horrid stepmom. My bad opinion had been confirmed when I finally met her a few days ago. I knew his father lived on the road, and that when he was younger, he’d been raised by his grandparents. He’d shared these things like they weren’t a big deal. Obviously, they were.
“I never met my real mom.” Justin reached over and took the notebook from my hand. His eyes and smile were hard as he said, “Annabeth wants nothing to do with me—not that I want anything to do with her, either. Dad’s never home, my grandparents are gone. The only person who cares about me, other than a three-year-old who needs help brushing his teeth, is paid to do so.” He barked a cruel laugh and I winced. “How pathetic is that?”
“It’s not you, Justin. You know that, right?”
He leaned back and shoved the notebook in his pocket, a scoff on his lips.
“I’m serious. That’s on them… it’s their problem. If they can’t see how amazing you are, then I feel sorry for them. Really.” I hopped off the bench and came to stand in front of him. “I’m so sorry if being here this weekend hurt you. I wanted—”
“No,” Justin interrupted. “Don’t feel guilty, Sunshine. I love that you’re close to your family, okay?” He put his hands on my hips and tugged me between his open legs. “I’m grateful as hell that you let me be here. I would’ve been climbing the walls at home, writing even more horrific crap I pretend to be poetry.” When I went to argue—his writing is amazing, not crap!—he silenced me with a finger across my lips. “But being here is hard, too.”
“I know,” I told him, my lips brushing against his skin. His eyes fell to my mouth and he swallowed thickly before moving his hand to cup my cheek. “I mean, I don’t know, but I can sympathize. I’m so glad you shared this with me, Justin. You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”
He lowered his gaze and nodded, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I feel closer to you now,” I admitted, and he raised his eyes again. “Is there anything you want to know about me?” I’d already told him about the hospital, but I figured putting myself on the hot seat might make him feel less vulnerable.