Ben

He runs home, excited to see I'm still here.

All he can do is yell and laugh and cheer,

scream and holler, because I haven't left him yet,

because I'm the only one here for him.

He wants to talk about his friends and his school day,

but there's not much for me to say

because there's so much to share.

I listen to his exciting tales, but not to my surprise,

I can see the fear and anger in his eyes.

He doesn't hide it well.

He pushed Ben in the hall again, I deduce.

Because of his actions, Ben draws a noose

all over his math binder.

He imagines making it all end, all life and power in him,

thinking it'd be easier if it all went dim.

I sit and wonder if he's going to do it,

when he's going to do it,

if I can teach him to take a hit,

brush it off, and go about his day.

I don't think he can handle the pressure

Because he thinks no one cares about him.

His name is tattooed on my body.

Doesn't that show I love him?

That I care about him?

That he's not alone?

He has me, right?

What happens when I return to school?

I'd be called a fool

if I think everything will turn out cool.

He's so strong-willed and smart,

but all the mean words break his little heart

and tear this little boy's world apart.

Ben is twelve years old and wants to die.

All I can ask is how and why?

How has this kid not been punished

for bullying Ben?

How has John gone under the radar

of passing-by teachers and administrators?

Why has this escalated so far?

And why did he not share

knowing that I care

and so does Mom

and Alysia

and Samantha?

So many people care for kids who have

been bullied.

But, because of the negativity at school,

they can't see the love and

compassion waiting for them

at home.

Ben, just know, I love you,

no matter what you do.

I'll always be your big sister,

and you'll always be my foofoo.