Boy Of Marvel



Boy of marvel

releasing cats-eye marbles, striking larger with calculation, survives uncracked

not like himself, when returned to, toy box finds himself lost, beneath writhing child arms, sticky and fat with glut of play

autism a diagnosis never talked about

his shame, needing silence more than air, touch an anathema much like, being punched or bit to another kid

he shrinks and makes small his avoidance

bright enough to tell he’s different, among swell and surge of enthusiastic, shrieks, piercing his aphonic ears covered over, desperate to escape the lunacy of being

six years old

forced to regurgitate warmed milk at rest hour, when his body itched to read beyond his years in quiet corner

unable to obey the call of discipline, he squirmed and wet himself feeling, a comfort in warm urine run beneath his legs

they laughed and taunted him bald, picking like crows against no defense, he…

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