*taken from the MySpace blog*
there’s a piece i wrote, ‘being young and seeing through the
eyes of a needle.’people wonder about the emotion and imagery of
that piece. i’d like to say it was all fiction. but that’s not
see, i was about 15 years old. i was mainly a sheltered child
of sorts so being in high school allowed me a greater freedom.
even if i was in catholic school. so one day, i was near a corner
store in the backstreets famous for illegal fireworks and cold
beer sold to minors. there was something on the fence of the
open lot next to the store. as i walked closer, it was a woman.
couldn’t have been no more than 22. her lips were the first thing
i noticed, dried apricot slices that wore a milky crust. she was
mumbling something, some silent incantation to whatever gods she
believed in. she wore a dirty pea coat over a faded housedress with
sneakers. one arm clung to the iron fence. the other hung at her
side, with an open hole. my heart started beating fast, even more
so as she stared at me with the eyes of corpses i had seen in
michael jackson’s thriller movie. and the only thing i could think of,
that still gets me to this day was, ‘who stole your dream?’
and i kept on walking. and never saw her again.