a devil in the making inside angel's skin. he rips the wings of dauntless butterflies and smears their colorful gore on scathing roads. he splits the eye of a baby bird, a beady jewel tucked in his pockets.

golden locks, cherub face, baby blues. he smiles and tells them he was only having fun.

he rubs his hands inside the taffy guts of a frog, in and out he goes, feeling the beating heart leap within his palms. he told them it was already dead and just wanted to see what was inside. then there was a dog. matted brown, and gaunt bones. he fed him, filling his gullet with kibble and meat. what a good boy he is. they patted his head, cherishing his sweet intentions.

the dog died.

his muzzle fished out fresh from it's face. ears scalped clean and pink like the little boy's bubble gum. he said a dog attacked. so ruthlessly. digging it's claws in his wide-eyes face, unable to move, hind legs mangled and crushed, paws broken, howling and whimpering. the other dog was so ruthless as it snipped off it's tethered tail. he said.

bad dog. good boy. he should've never run away from it's master.

seventh grade. top grades. top face. pretty boy has pretty friends. pretty boy has pretty nasty mind. saw a kid. pushed him down. broke his leg, collapsed his rib. said his hands slipped. his arm a quarter too close, slippery floors, squeaky sneakers. an accident.

then a girl confessed. dark-skinned, cupid-mouth. she poured out her heart carved from the crater of her budding chest, split it in two, spoon fed him her feelings, praying he'd love the flavor.

took a piece and spat it out. he smiled. said yes. kissed another girl. she cried. fashioned another lie from his tailored tongue. 'i'm sorry.' licking the sap from her eyes. she forgave him.

don't we all?

skiptime. summertime. lovertime. he met a boy. darling peter. chocolate curled. hazel eyed. freckled skin. soft spoken. small framed. he was perfect. he fell in love. lily-lipped, honey scented, lithe fingers.

so sweet, so lovely, he just wanted to take a bite.

and darling peter loved the halo-haired, devil teethed, money swimming, ocean-eyed boy. so he thought nothing when in walked through his dark chalet.

no shirts, lost shorts. pale skin, tan skin, bare and smooth. old-money mouth boy, using his charm, snaking his tongue between his lips. he was a treasure. he needed him forever. pinned him. clipped him. a struggle. like a beetle trying to wriggle free from the maw of a venus trap. caught in a web, his slender neck snapped. branches cried and the earth weeped.

could he ever forgive him?

"i'm sorry."

no.

but darling peter; where'd he go? ask the other boy. he may know-

he tells them it was only a mistake.

~art~