They spill your blood.
They dust you off to kill you more.
They know just when to sooth you
and just when to bite.
They eat you alive,
and then laugh about it
like they care for you,
or you’re just not doin’ right.
They lead you by the hand
to amazing vistas of rose petals,
a dire love,
and then they cut your heart out
in the very place they called you love.

This is diabolical.
This is oh so sweet.
You have some semblance there
of hey hello it’s me;
I am your love, remember?
And those memories kill you
because they’re insanely not there
to make any more with you.
You can’t touch that.
You can only cry,
helpless heaving cries
that startle up your mind
to insanity’s fallout.
This touches you.
This laughs at you.
This enters your neck.

You are not there with them,
that little boy you love,
and he has lost his comfort zone,
I mean really his whole life,
to live in a shed
with grey bones to sleep on
and parents that finally get the chance
to rub his nose in it:
all these years for preferring me.
Do you get the picture?

They torture me with that,
the anarchs of pain,
and his pain rends my breast
and makes me want to kill myself
because I want to shoot myself for his pain.
What do I do?

I just sit here and tell you.
No one will listen.
We’re a racial mix,
and I’m in a foreign land,
and all’s people see is a red flag.
They don’t know what they’re lookin’ at,
and so they hurt us more,
thinking we’ve sinned
together as man and wife.
The boy’s 12.
You stupid people.
That’s not the relationship.

We have love
from the fountain of soul.
I’m afraid this is as close as you can get,
two people,
and we’re suffering for that now.
It’s there we love.
It’s there we hope.
It’s there we stand and face each other.
You don’t mind.
You only see yourself.

He’s forgotten about me.
They try to tell me that.
Oh he’s happy move on.
But then I meet him in dream and vision,
or talk to him on the phone,
a forbidden enterprise
he has to sneak to do,
and I’ve found him again
the lover of my life,
where he was when they didn’t see him.

Kids aren’t all on pain.
They’re not geared for that.
Their mask just allows the public to see
hey I’m alright;
look I play and laugh and sing,
but I’m not there you know;
I’m inside with the pain,
and you know I can’t hide it
always,
nor even very much.

So we’ve unlocked these doors,
the Furies that punish us
for so deep a love.
What type of love is this?
It's deep-seated parental feelings
more than anything else.
Can you get your head around that?
It’s boy love without the sex.
It’s a man’s embrace.
It helped hold the world together
in ancient times.
I’m his tutor.
I’m his love.
I’m his friend,
but most of all I hold his hand.
I’m the one who guides him through life,
and he is a spiritual arrangement.
I do not love him if I abuse him,
and that love starts my day,
where I hold this little boy.
There is no abuse here.
I do not cut his teeth on silver diamonds.

Can a kid handle this?
This has been humanity’s beef all along:
you can’t take children and put ‘em in a box
and make them obey there,
protecting them from the world
by protecting them from themselves.
This is an ancient relationship I tell you,
and it’s not bad, evil, or mean.
It’s as wholesome as the night sky,
as helpful as a forest moon.
You can read us
in volumes of poetry,
and the boy has videos,
and he’ll tell you about himself.

We have something new for the Earth,
and integral healing plan
that meets nature right where the Earth is,
so the soul can express itself.
We’re expressing soul.
Do you hear that?

We don’t know how to arrive.
We weren’t separated by parental concern.
I’ve been his erastes for six years,
a full on parental relationship.
He mostly stayed with me
for these half dozen years,
but I was at his birth.
He came into my life at one and a half,
as this little tyke I helped take care of,
and we have been doing this since he was three:
I was a parent in the room.

Now you can take this
and cut it up.
accuse us of pederasty,
but what you got here is two people in love,
whatever the form,
and it’s right relationship.
I test you to go and see.
We’ve left public record,
starting since when he was three.

Okay crowd,
we let the parents arrange this,
with their hate and their spite and their mean,
because they are jealous of our relationship?
And are at this very moment
forcing themselves on the boy,
and he doesn’t want that.
He wants to be home with me.

I’ve laid it all out on the table,
told you the story.
What do you want,
social change,
where kids meet bigger people,
or do you want the kids to remain the same
and do not change the nature of man,
so we can become better people and save the world?
I’m lookin’ you in the eye.
Engage our social media,
the boy’s and I.
We will change the world.

The boy’s YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/@s.nithish1830