Stephen (Happy Ending excerpt)

i was nine years old....
sent to my grandmothers hairdresser

for a "trim"

even at nine I didn't want my hair cut..
but he had a little black poodle
who i loved....

the dog jumped in my lap
as I sat in the salon chair...

the creep started to pet the dog...
his hand slipped between my legs
he began to fondle me

my entire life changed...

I told my dad what happened..
"really?" was the sad reply..

never another word was spoken
about the incident...

It was then I truly understood

I was alone in this world
worthless
unwanted
trash....

sitting here today digging in my arm
for a fresh vein...
I am hoping his death is as slow and miserable as mine ...

Stephen Hawkins was a violinist
at seventeen he could play Paganini
with his eyes closed...
he was beautiful...
he was human art.....
the sound of his violin came straight from heaven
and spiraled deep into my stomach
where it still lives to this day...

my favorite story about stephen
was when he and john (best friend and guitarist)
took a bunch of windowpane acid
and split...
hitchhiking their way down route 15
towards california...

when the cops rolled up
and asked for I.D
Stephen refused...
as John gingerly handed his
drivers liscence to the officer
Stephen grabbed it...
shoved it in his mouth....
and ate it....

now I ask you
how could you not love such a man?

he began to behave more erratically
one day he called a band meeting
and smashed his violin in front of us...

"I'm Free"
he exclaimed....

when I visited him in the state hospital
he talked of being molested by the orderlies
i felt sick in my stomach
flashing back to my own ordeal...

"what are we going to do about this" I asked him...
"nothing"
"why?"
"I'm used to it"
"What do you Mean?

"my father...."

Stephens father was an evangelical christian...

They found his body in yellow breeches creek...
my friend had drowned himself...

I wondered if he felt the same as me
while the black creek water filled his lungs...

the self hatred...
the worthlessness
the anger
abandonment
the guilt

thrown away by the world...
unwanted...

trash.....

when I visit him in the cemetary
I wanna reach down through
that grey graveyard dirt..

I wanna hold his hand
I wanna hold him in my arms...
I just wanna tell him...
it's ok
it's ok
It's ok....

it's not ok....