I remember you around with your mohawk, tall and lanky.
I was twelve and running.
You always seemed to show up when I needed a friend.
We ran into each other after I returned from San Francisco and you thought me a ghost as you heard I had died.
Sometimes I think I did die.
You showed up at my door, Lennon-like, needing me. Needing shelter in my Temple, all sparkly-eyed, all lost looking to be found. The drums, the never-ending talks, you pickin’ ’n grininn’ on the toilet. You took over the kitchen too.
My sweet kitchen fool.
Joey, I’m sorry for letting you go.
I'm sorry for making you go.
I’m sorry for saying you must go when you did not want to, when you stood there talking to me through a hole in the pantry wall.
I needed you to be strong.
I was angry that you never found answers, and that all your questions never changed.
When I heard that you tried to cross over the line and was found in the park, that they had to scrape your eyes when they brought you back; I got lost in the blinding imagery of you there on the ground, sightess. I cry thinking of this, still.
When I finally heard of it, you had already made it happen. For good this time. You took the pills as you sat in the rafters of your garage with a noose round your neck waiting to pass out and fall from the highway of your life, to leave it all behind.
This time you made it happen.
Somehow no-one told me you had crashed, that you were unsteady behind the wheel. I was shocked to see you were so brave; how you really resolved to leave and get-gone.
Where was that turn you took, that the days looked hopeless, and the nights unbearable.
I had to work out my guilt of making you leave. How you were in protest, how you never could hide your hurt from me.
I guess you scared me the same way I scared you.
I’m not afraid anymore.
Yet, I still can’t say goodbye.
I need to thank
for his help in sorting this monster of a mess out (I still get emotional over this). Guy has helped with quite a few of my pieces throughout this process (which is an act of trust and love as I never show my writing in process to anyone), yet, this was the messiest as I could not see clearly when getting these thoughts out. Thank you, Guy. <3 If you have not had the pleasure of
's editorial help, you are truly missing out on master level feedback and critique. You can find him at the
's discord server -- truly a gem.
All pieces are newly crafted and posted shortly after in adherence to the rules of the challenge. All the photos are mine unless otherwise stated.
Join the Steemit School here: https://discord.gg/yZvYjfM organized by
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