tell him that you love him

his silence and
sadness are synonymous.

he spends his afternoons
looking out his window,
at the old man two houses down
who used to sit outside with his wife,

but now sits alone.

and he wonders if anyone will ever love him 

that much.

he won't look at the clouds
but he'll draw them,
and he won't leave his room
until the old man is in bed


but then he'll light a cigarette
in the backyard,
where the girl next door
turns on her stereo 

and dances around with her best friend.
he will crane his neck,
looking to the night sky

thinking that if Earth were a canvas

then he was just an ink stain

that God forgot to remove.

and of all things

 i wish i could prove to him

that he is worth

so much more