Dear Jaycee Lee--

On how many levels have we failed you?
We released him and this isn’t the first way
We raised him in a world that has ignored
A million screams like yours
A world deeply confused about pleasure and violence
A world of windswept unheeded warnings
Rising rapidly to the ether
Like escaped helium balloons

One of two is true…
He received messages that condoned his wayward desires
Trivialized his perversions
Making light of youth and possession in language and song
Taking ownership of what is not yours
Girlhood at once worshipped and defiled

Or…

He emitted cries for help here and there
Somebody taught him math and
Noticed the angled depth of his boyhood eyes too sharp
His spirit slip to rock and arrow, somebody
Saw his bloom wilt toxic

Both, maybe.

Maybe he was made, too, into
The manifestation of somebody’s darkness
Losing, too, his self, his God, his light

One thing is certain…

Many, many brows raised
Above eyes that looked away.

Many, many ears turned cool pillows
To muffle your cries.

Still raise
Still turn

Raise
Turn

Raise
Turn

It is the simple turning toward
That creates the power to maintain
A change.

It is the simple turning toward
That moves the light.

Turn with me.