Loving our fury.
Desire is like a creature caged
Lacking a destination for our heart
So we search...
He tried to raze me for a vial of crack and I busted his balls. We were eleven years old. It was love at first sight. Well, maybe not first sight 'cause he did have that stocking mask pulled down over his face. He assures me it was for him though, so I guess I have to believe that.
I was just getting into the life then, before there was even a street slang for it. We were the quintessential early adopters. The only reason I was out selling, working for dealers, was to get the cash to take the test. Usually I was just stealing enough drugs to support my habit. I did steal enough and sell enough to pay for the test for both of us, because by then we were inseparable. Once I found out you had to be fifteen, he and I went and spent all the money we'd saved, pretty much stayed high for three years. At fifteen we scored big, being criminal masterminds by then, took the test, cleaned up and became something other than fucked up youth. Believe me, I'm not complaining, we were at the top there for a couple of years, living large. Now that he's dead, I can't help but think that it was my fault.
The rain stings my eyes, and it's cold, but at least I can feel it. I hold out my hands and the cold on the blisters feels good, in a bad way. I thought it would be harder to dig a grave, turned out easier than anticipated, as are most things. I don't know what kind of words to say, don't think he'd care what kind of words I'd say, so I don't say any.
- Current Location:St. George Utah
- Current Mood: ready
- Current Music:"...the air I tasted and breathed..."