where nobody can hear you scream

the most desirable eighteen year old

rests his head on your un-adjustable passenger seat

lets the wind blow his not-long but not-short-enough hair over his eyes

showing only his lips

(best looking when covered

in saliva, according to him,

because he thinks he knows

what men seek in boys like him.

sourcing his life, the society

he’s known, the thing’s he’s read

and come to know in

growing up the way nobody

should).

trashing guitars blast in his headphones

multiple favoured vocalists warn him of experiences he wants to have

to understand what he can’t see on his tiptoes.

sometimes he opens his eyes

throughout your trip, he opens a book

a book on a prominent historical figure

he’s not sure whether or not this figure be respected after death, but you can’t care

just:

grab his skinny wrist &

force his small body out the side.

what happens when you put an axe in his back?

when you can’t stand to look at how unbelievably wrong he is? 

that scream, only you will hear