It wasn't the night of my dreams as I thought it would be. When I darkened my eyes with makeup at home, I let cold black lines flow like bloody tears down my cheeks, thinking that this would be everything I ever dreamed it would be. Then, when I walked quietly down the street with gentle guitars moaning in my ears and tried not to notice the looks on people's faces, I imagined how it would be to feel the rush of their music like pure inspiration and adrenalin, injected straight into my heart. I felt estranged in this world and they had given me hope in telling me it's okay to be different. I owed it to them to feel stoked. But I didn't. The c
It is a wonder how two simple words, empty as the heart of a butcher, can hurt you so badly. How I got there, I do not remember. But I remember what he said while I was standing outside in the rain, waiting for him to come and get me. My jeans were soaking wet, my feet were frozen already and my black hair- wet as if I had taken a shower with all my clothes still on my back. He was inside the bus. His shaggy black hair was shining so brightly it appeared blue. His blue eyes, clear as the sky on a warm spring morning, were circled by black eye shadow, flowing down his cheekbones as the rays of a pitch black sun. His full lips were pressing aga