Trigger...












Here the hot evil stares and cold air and I cannot fight it.
I cannot leave this place no matter how much I struggle and squirm.
No matter how much I cry and hate, nothing changes and these hands are like metal clamps biting into my arms.

The sweat, dripping on me and I want salvation from this.

Please, please someone save me and why doesn't anyone hear me and please someone help me
and take me away from this pain so intense…
The shame…

Please if someone is listening will you do something to stop this from happening because… oh God I don't think it's ever going to end… when HE touches me I stop believing.
Now all I can say are empty words because I don't understand.
I don't understand anything anymore and this is a freak show and I am the main act.

And how can I ever tell when no one will believe me because I pretend that everything is okay because the pain of his hatred and his disgust for me is more than I can take.

I love him.

Fucking Damn you, where are you and why have you left me all alone to die here on this box-spring mattress inside with HIS hands inside my six-year-old body.

I have forgotten how to laugh and I have lost myself and no one notices or cares.

Please let it be over soon.

Please take my memories away and leave me feeling empty inside.
Empty has to be better than what I am feeling now when all this pain inside forces me to crawl into the corner and cry.

Even my tears have been raped.

Please help me bury this down inside so deep that no one will ever see what he has done to me and how I die a little inside every day.

I promise I will never tell.
I promise I will never fight.
I promise I’ll be a good boy.

Please just stop.

I can’t breathe…

… and I wonder why you hate me.

Jaysen,

I hear you; we all hear you. You are not alone anymore.

Brian

Jay,

It's heartbreaking to read all this. I remember that helpless feeling and thinking "Please just stop". It's terrible beyond imagining and I'm so sorry.

But at the same time I'm glad you can write about it. Somehow or another we do have to get this out and talk about it. It really is the only way. It's the most natural thing in the world that Little Jay is thinking, as you put it, "Please help me bury this down inside so deep that no one will ever see what he has done to me and how I die a little inside every day." But there is the point where Big Jay has to take him by the hand and get him to talk. I hope you will continue to do that.

Much love,
Larry

Yeah? How about if big Jay takes little Jay by the hand and beats the living shit out of him until he's gone?
Will that work?

J

Jay,

I figure I know Big Jay too well to think that will happen. I don't think Little Jay thinks that will happen either. Little Jay's feelings don't focus on Big Jay; they focus on himself, just like it goes with all abused boys. He figures this was all his fault, and it's so not true. There's a lot of raw emotion and confusion in that poem, and that's okay. But Little Jay will always hear that it wasn't his fault, and one day he will believe that.

Much love,
Larry

I hate that fucking poem Larry. I put music to it but I can't sing it. I wish you didn't know me so well, if you didn't I could sit here and tell little Jay to fuck off... and you'd believe that I meant it.

Yep. Well, I do know you so well, and more to the point YOU know you so well.

Much love,
Larry

Jaysen,

So don't sing it, just play the music. Keep listening to the Roadrunner, he ain't going 'beep beep' just for the hell of it.

froggy