(read the first lines slow, then the paragraphs fast, is how I flowed it.)
All the sudden he got you.
All the sudden he shot you.
All that sudden I’m watchin.
All the sudden the cops in.
But not before Dad’s dead.
Took two shots to his fucked head.
38 and I’m seein red.
Pool of blood around your head.
Mother’s day up in Buckhead (GA, ’83)
It becomes about my head.
Way to young is what they said.
But they weren’t in the shit. Didn’t see what I saw. Didn’t feel what I felt. They were tryin to help. Lookin in on the hell, didn’t hear the death bell and The ring in my ears.
Just imagine the weight that I held. And hold. Gotta be bold to move on with that tragedy. See? Without out them (parents). 7. What’s heaven? That’s where they went right?
Or did dad go to hell? And, am I like my dad? All these questions I had. No choice but move on. And that moment was gone. But now stuck in my head. Always. Brutal, to move through it. With it. Horse shit. Pissed off. God’s fault…or a while.
So many days. Just in a haze. Felt I didn’t belong. Joe, you gotta be strong, as you movin along. And it all just seemed wrong. Robbed from my mom.
Acceptance was the way. But, even now, not sure I accept it. Still like, what the fuck was all that shit. No way to know Dad but as sick.
I Just know it’s still with me. And I’m blessed to have had love around me, from that moment on. Thanks mom(s) and Pop. Thanks family and friends and everyone.