2016 Memories / For the 17 to my 83

2; Lion by Hollywood Undead

The week starts and ends on very different notes. It was maybe April? Idk I'll find the date in my notebook somewhere later.

It started with you sneaking me out (I saw you earlier at JC park and that day I was stripping to My World by Iggy Azalea (in my room), I had found Sims Urbz for my ps2 after i lost it for three fucking years and was obsessed with Sail by mgk), and me almost getting caught by Caseys dad next door (who's hella chill like go you), and me crossing the street from the trailer court to town pump, where I saw your Tahoe and you hugged me and it was still cold. It's about 11:30. We walk under bright lights and make our way to Narnia as you tell me I'm gonna "get my ass caught". It would've been worth it. Sitting on the bridge, we're talking about Drinkin Fuckin Fightin, railroad tracks, and random little rants while I freeze my ass off. I had been sick that previous week so when we walked back and you hugged me and I pet your dog, I went home and felt high and happy and AHHH and downed some NyQuil to sleep.

You texted me about Him. I-man bailed Him out. I-man said he had changed, and we thought we had seen the last of him when he was in jail for beating up some little girl or some shit idek. So you were in I-man's living room and He walked out. You guys talked and shit and it was okay but you were hesitant to trust Him. Later in the car, he kissed your scars (which I never did to you since then (or at all) and things were maybe okay. maybe. Until I man left, to do shit we don't talk about, and you told me "all I remember is his voice changing and then I man was telling me to stay awake in the backseat of his car, apologizing." i guess he fucked up your ribcage, you'd tell me it hurts to like sit certain ways and shit. You wouldn't listen to the i man and go to the hospital though.

it's the image of Him falling 10-13 feet down down down and down a staircase with blood everywhere, not to mention disappearance. it's the barrel of a gun at your head. it's getting handed pills from tired eyes and worried glances. it's screaming at my mom in the car, as she shatters promises i never thought she'd keep. It's waking up to anxiety in cold quiet empty rooms dipped in sunlight. it's stripping in church bathrooms to everything from hollywood undead to halsey to twenty one pilots to iggy azalea. it's blood and panic attacks- a shit ton of them in a week. it's confession on jerrika's carpet, knowing I'd hit my breaking point, that I couldn't hold it all down. It's seeing you at the park with the rain, kissing you in the rain, sitting on that picnic table, talking about how crazy this week had been (it's also wondering if the night before was the night you'd be gone but realizing I would've somehow known (I researched death, you know)), but it's getting that random panic and later finding out misti's mom had made her blackout (that was before the park i think). it's watching misti run down that street by the alley between me and AJ's houses, as her mom talks to us. It's lying to her mom in front of my dad, and texting AJ. 

the soundtrack to that week was Lion by Hollywood Undead and Empty by PVRIS. I'd blast them and look through the sleep deprivation at my watered down soul. I'd relive that week in a heartbeat, staying up almost all night, too anxious to sleep, because of cops. I spent a lot of time in bathrooms, I'm realizing. Mania was coming into play at this time, too, I didn't have brakes, and I'm starting to feel all of these things again now (writing this september 11, 2016). Some things won't change no matter how far you chase the pavement. Some things you can't carve out- embrace all of your experience.

- (m.m)

i love you, I'll talk to you later, expect more memories, I'll write more