Childhood.

When I was small, I remember that had broken something of Courtney's,
or had done something without thinking that effected her negatively in some way, and I remember that I had done this a few times before.


I felt truly sorry for doing whatever I had done to the point of tears.

But of course, ten-year-old Courtney lost her patience at this over committed felony and angerly said to me:

" Do you know what 'I'm sorry' means?! It means that you'll never do it again!"



And since then I've never bothered to look up what 'I'm sorry' actually means.

I'm a bad person; I don't wear the shoes my mom lovingly bought me.

My mom bought my 8th pair of converse today 35.50$
and a white lace dress, 11.98$.



The dress makes me want to run through a field of daisies and jump into lake fulled with the colors of a summer sunset.


And the shoes, I like them, a lot.

They make me want to walk though down town Tacoma, and watch traffic go by from the bridge by the museum of glass
.

ha-ha they're "unisex," it said so on the label. I liked them because they were queer and reminded me of the shoes that this really pretty girl with short hair wore at the Red-Room.

I also needed them because I can't wear my black vans anymore
(you can see my toes when I don't wear socks.)
((They were a gift from Vanessa Reed so they made me feel cool))


___________________________


My mom spoke to me in the car about how I hadn't worn the last shoes I got, or the one before that, or the ones before that... it made me feel awful.

Coming home to Courtney's look of annoyance when she found out that she had bought them and how she held them up while saying nothing as she scrutinized them didn't help either.

______________________________

I love all of my shoes, I really do! The blue moccasins, the red converses, the yellow ones too, the ones with the zippers, my boots, I have a lot of memories with all of those shoes! Whether you believe it or not.

 Thank you so much for getting me them, mom.

______________________

 ....I just felt my best in my old hole invested boots.
I felt cool wearing those boots.

But I realized today that they're really nothing special.

___________________________


...I'm ungrateful really, all of those shoes and shirts that I never wore were gifts from someone who loves me
and I didn't love them as she hoped I would.

I made her disappointed.

But I won't do that anymore!
I'll wear all of my new shoes!
I promise this time!


I make sure this time! I'm so sorry that I didn't wear them, I really am.


I'll force myself to wear them, I won't wear boots for a month, the first of December is tomorrow,
I'll start then!

All I want to do is write letters.

It's raining.

 





I don’t yet have the words to truly express what I feel;
anger, rage, sorrow, or even when I’m euphoric. I stand
here just floundering around with words pouring from my mouth.
or just in empty silence. Coughing up my heart and flattening my lungs. out.







I'm glad you watched me grow. I'm glad I knew you.
I glad i could speak to you. I'm glad i was the one you could
come to for a short time. I'm so thankful for that time.






I love this person, my friend. Your words written over multiple pages
your heart threaded in ever letter and sentence.
I saw you in the words you wrote.



Forgive me if you mistake what i say for anger. I'm simply trying to
defend; fight off the world from those who i think need it. Forgive me if you saw it as something irrational.
I'm sorry if you didn't care for my words.
I'm sorry that I bothered you.




You never answered my questions.
you never answered my question.






CHRIST! I gave so much. CHRIST! ALL I WANTED WAS FOR YOU TO BE OK!
and i wanted you to be there when I called.
I didn't wanted to become just one of the crowd to you.




I'm greatful I had that time. That I had all of what I wanted.
I miss you. But the memories are enough.






I'm so sorry, I'm sorry that your life was sad,
That you turned to the bottle, that you turned to filling your lungs with smoke.
that you felt enough to hurt yourself.




I'm so sorry. That your mother and brother didn't defend you.
I hope you know that i always will.









It's raining.

You Call This a Victory?

When I'm angry words just fall out of my mouth and finger tips, and most of the time they don't make sense and hardly ever get my point across.


I just have this over whelming feeling of helplessness that comes sometimes that I don't know how to make go away. 

I wanted that feeling to go away, to punch them all in the face until I bled, I wanted to defend my friend and her family more than anything I've ever wanted to do.

I wanted to erupt in a fury that a thousand strong wolf pack would have yet to understand.

...but Courtney was right, it wouldn't make him see any different. Taking away what he said seemed to be the best choice.

I'm sick of yelling at the ceiling.

I want to believe whole heartedly in a god that loves.

I've wanted to for years, but it's getting harder and harder. I want to believe that he loves me, or at least them,


(please love them. They need it more than I do.)


I want to believe in a god who weeps when we do.



I want to believe in a god that apologizes.

But I can only fantasise about that,

That EVERYONE is in heaven and happy. That only the TRULY wicked are burning forever, not the single mothers, the queers, or those who didn't have the ability to see past common reason.


that we won't just end up as white mist all singing in uncontrolled harmony to a gleeful man sitting in a ten story throne.  



As big as you are, as little as we are, can you at least....I don't know, hug those who need it?

those who loneliness is becoming unbearable.

whose loved one is dying.

the boy who's sad, the girl who's angry.

...there's so many more.




You've said that you did these things before, you said that you were here once or twice.

But it's been what, 2,000 years since you have publicly shown your face?


you know what,

Thanks for those 33 years of empty hope and model worthy love.

Thanks for dying for your screw up kids.

Thanks for burning 75% of us forever.

Thanks for drowning, crushing, and burning us.    

Thanks for the plagues.

Thanks for the anger.

Thanks for the book you gave us to live off of.

Thanks for weeping once.

Thanks for tossing those tables when we messed up your house.





Thanks for the cureless diseases.



  




...He's 15...