On Stepping Stones & Stone Stepping

When I was a kid, the kids of my neighborhood used to go down to the river and cross it by stepping on stones, it was like playing the floor is lava instead of lava the floor is shit because that river was where all the drainage let out. Once when I was eight years old... I fell in. That was the day I learned what fear really means.

In the dictionary you will find the word fear is described as "An unpleasant feeling triggered by the perception of danger, real or imagined"

I describe fear as the look in my best friend's eyes as he held his father's hand gun and aimed it at a place so deep within my heart, a place beyond my hopes and dreams, beyond my love and lust. A place only the things I hate most in the world can breed, things like bell bottoms jeans, Instagram “models,” and Apple Jacks cereal. But also a place I hide parts of myself, the parts of myself that used to play with rocks and make boats out of trash and watch them float down a river made of human shit and float to the sky.

This is the same part of myself that sat there staring down the barrel of a gun wondering if the blood splatter on the wall behind me would look like some kind of modern art painting. And if that would be the only chance I get to create something beautiful.

At age 8 my greatest fear was becoming exactly what I was supposed to be, which at that time what I was supposed to be, which was dead by the age of 17. That I wouldn't matter, because you see I am from what you might call a shithole country.

It was in this shithole country that my friends taught me how to run across the highway without looking, because even if it does happen... The painting of you splattered in blue and red ink all over the pavement will at least be a little hard to clean up. So maybe you'll matter for even a second. They also taught me which stones to step on in order to cross the shit River.

By age 17, 8 of the 15 kids I grew up with had already been painted their paintings in leaded red ink. Well one of them wasn't gunned down in the street; no he was instead cut into pieces and put into 7 garbage bags, so less of a painting and more of an abandoned arts and crafts project I suppose.

Of course by age 18 my greatest fear was losing you.

I do miss you.

Every now and then.

And every moment between now and then.

And you were my girl, my “I like art type girl.”

And last time I saw you, you were wearing high heels…

And I want you to know that our first kiss tasted like coke, and vanilla. But not Vanilla Coke.

And the hardest part of losing you was discovering that ice cream and masturbation can't fix everything.

And I miss the way you looked at me, I miss the way I looked when I looked at you, into those deep emerald eyes..

And the last thing you told me was “I'll see you around”

Age 19 my greatest fear is that my lust is taking over, and bell bottom jeans are “coming back”

And by age 20 my greatest fear is knowing that you may never truly know how deeply I love you. And make it past 25.

And the reason I loved burying my face between your thighs. Is because you taste like home.

You lit a fire in me.

And I will love you even if by the embers of my soul. I need your body like I need my next nicotine hit.

And I don't smoke, but if it feels as good as you do maybe I'll give it a try.

Because even though it might kill me it'll be worth it. The tar of your kiss sticks to the cracks in my heart and allows my beats to beat with meaning. The curves of your body fit perfectly into the curves of mine. You allow me to relax. Your skin is ocean during twilight hours. Soft and gentle. Moving my body along with it.

The beaches of your body are something I want to beg in, and the forest of your soul something I will explore until I've mapped out every inch Of you. Every Scar, freckle, ticklish spot.

You feel like deja vu. I was once told, deja vu is the universe telling you, you are exactly where you're supposed to be. I never thought my breathing could feel important, but as I sync my breath with the in and out of yours, I remind myself why I look both ways before crossing the street.

And even though I might always be afraid of the next step. It'll all be stepping stones.