So I once wrote a piece called “fourteen” Some of you read it About the death of my friend When I was young And how it changed everything for me early on
I’ve been thinking of him today And.. I was reminded of this story
It was 1988 Me Joey And Chris
We had our entire lives in front of us But who really cared about that crap right now We were too busy being country boys
Hunting Fishing Shooting guns Listening to music Playing football and baseball Laughing and pranking each other Sneaking in and out of the neighborhood girls’ bedroom windows late at night While the oblivious moms and dads slept quiet.. and cold… back to back…
Raiding the liquor cabinet of my friend April’s dad Filling the bottles back up with tea or water Or whatever the hell we could find
Life was sweet Alive…………………………………………………..`.°~ Intoxicating
Feels so long ago And now it’s just these words
One day.. the three of us decided to buy some Indian ink from the local drug store And give each other tattoos
We were great at many things However Drawing with a dipped sewing needle was not one of them.. haha
We secured the ink and the needle Yes… One needle… For all three of us…
We didn’t care about disease back then We were blood brothers anyway
So we ventured way back into the woods along a creek we frequented There was a huge fallen oak tree across the water Forming a natural bridge
This was our favorite hangout spot We also fished the creek often Mostly after school and on the weekends
Those woods… We knew them well The three of us spent a lot of our lives there
So we sat together on that tree bridge
Joey was first up for the ink He was the brave one The cool one The leader
After all It was his idea
He picked me to be the one to permanently eff his skin up for life…
I was nervous I didn’t really want to do it
Stop being a pussy Bryan Ok… I got this Give me the ink and the needle and stfu Watch and learn fellas
So I proceeded
I put the needle to his back
And gave him his initials… J. T.
He also wanted a cross And so I did…
And I have to say It looked pretty badass For what I had to work with Not bad at all
What a relief…
But when my turn came I don’t know what the hell came over me
I became afraid Not only of the pain But of the forever of it
If this is going to be on me for life Then I want it to look good Not some black chicken-scratch bullshit.. I have to stare at forever
The fear got me And I didn’t go through with it
So we wrapped up the ink and the needle Placed it in a little wooden box And hid it inside a hollowed-out dead tree
Then we went home
And I caught hell from them the whole way back… For chickening out…
And I did feel bad Like I broke our bro code Like I let my crew down
That was one of the last times I ever saw Joey alive…
The next time Was when I stood over his casket at the funeral
A few months went by…
One night I was in my room playing my guitar late… And I caught his spirit… I felt his presence…
I don’t really have words for it But I was so moved by it…
That I grabbed a flashlight Climbed quietly out my bedroom window So I wouldn’t wake anyone
Went into the woods Retrieved the wooden box with the ink and the needle Made it back to my room
Heart of Loia `'.,°~ 