"We are all Outlaws in the eyes of Amerika"
I was wandering the sidewalk with one of my favorite boys when I first heard his voice. "Aye Bello." He yelled. I swirled around. Dark circles under his eyes and still wearing his gang colors after all the time that past him spent living in a 6 foot cell. Resistance,
I ran into his arms and memories flooded my brain, Like when I first met him on 96th st, We were both dope sick as hell and waiting for our methadone. It was our first day in the program. He was wild and tall full of tattoos, bullet wounds, and scars. I was dirty and punk rock. No one else would sit next to us. Probably because they were afraid of him, and me well I just smelled bad. We laughed about it. Exchanged bad jokes and middle fingers, wandering eyes and crazy stories. When the suits finally opened the window, He pushed every one else out of the way and let me go first. The beginning.
After that I would go to the meetings just to be around him because his energy was contagious and warm and fun. His wife was a whore, I remember thinking how black her skin was, and how her eyes were just as sociopathic as his were. Like some fucked up version of Bonnie and Clyde, They rode together, and I showed them where I would hustle at night, He had gotten kicked off of his turf for jumping some cripts. One day in a cracked out rage he pulled a gun out on one of our counserlors. I never saw him again until months later through a Television screen watching some documentary about the latin kings, I said, "I swear thats Tony."
and it was. Fast forward.
When I finally left his arms and sat down next to him I said "I haven't seen you in like..." "14 months and 2 days" he finished. When you are in jail, You count the seconds, The minutes, The Days, Months, and then Years. There was something different about him, The pride was almost gone and I just felt a whole lot of saddness. I asked him if he could get me a gun. "Shits that crazy out here Lil?" He asked. "Nah, I said, I just want my death to be in my own hands, ya know? I'm gonna go out like Hunter S. Thompson." He smiled and agreed to get me a gun. He told me he had just robbed some couples house and opened a drawer and found like 25 guns but he had to get rid of them so fast that they were gone now. He detailed the experience like it was some strange victory for him "The bitch kept screaming, I mean i told her i wasn't going to shoot nobody, But the stupid bitch had to keep screaming, So i kept the gun to her head for the rest of the time i raided their house" He laughed "That shut that bitch up.". I asked him what he wanted to be when he was a kid. "An actor or a rockstar" he said. He would have been a great actor. He had a faded tattoo that read "Rockstar" On his hand. It was way out of place from all the other tattoos, The big "KRIPT KILLERS" tattoo on his arm and lots of latin king tattoos. The rain before the storm. "Do you think you have a conscience when you are doing all that crazy shit?" I asked him. "I do have a conscience" he answered "But i turn it off when I need to." I traced his rockstar tattoo with my finger. "That can be pretty dangerous" I answered. "So?" He said. "So nothing, Except I love you, and I think its pretty stupid that you are already robbing people and shit when you JUST got out." I said. "Lil, C'mon, Did i give you shit when you asked for a gun? Did I say anything about that? Maybe we should go call the suicide hotline because i love you." He answered. Sarcasm in the air. Me and Tony were never really good at real conversation, and he liked it that way. We just joked and laughed and made fun of the suits. So I just opened his arms and let myself inside them and he put his hand inside of mine. Silence was golden. When I got up we promised to meet up again and then I watched as he walked back to his corner to sling crack.
Silent Killer.
Love, Lily
I was wandering the sidewalk with one of my favorite boys when I first heard his voice. "Aye Bello." He yelled. I swirled around. Dark circles under his eyes and still wearing his gang colors after all the time that past him spent living in a 6 foot cell. Resistance,
I ran into his arms and memories flooded my brain, Like when I first met him on 96th st, We were both dope sick as hell and waiting for our methadone. It was our first day in the program. He was wild and tall full of tattoos, bullet wounds, and scars. I was dirty and punk rock. No one else would sit next to us. Probably because they were afraid of him, and me well I just smelled bad. We laughed about it. Exchanged bad jokes and middle fingers, wandering eyes and crazy stories. When the suits finally opened the window, He pushed every one else out of the way and let me go first. The beginning.
After that I would go to the meetings just to be around him because his energy was contagious and warm and fun. His wife was a whore, I remember thinking how black her skin was, and how her eyes were just as sociopathic as his were. Like some fucked up version of Bonnie and Clyde, They rode together, and I showed them where I would hustle at night, He had gotten kicked off of his turf for jumping some cripts. One day in a cracked out rage he pulled a gun out on one of our counserlors. I never saw him again until months later through a Television screen watching some documentary about the latin kings, I said, "I swear thats Tony."
and it was. Fast forward.
When I finally left his arms and sat down next to him I said "I haven't seen you in like..." "14 months and 2 days" he finished. When you are in jail, You count the seconds, The minutes, The Days, Months, and then Years. There was something different about him, The pride was almost gone and I just felt a whole lot of saddness. I asked him if he could get me a gun. "Shits that crazy out here Lil?" He asked. "Nah, I said, I just want my death to be in my own hands, ya know? I'm gonna go out like Hunter S. Thompson." He smiled and agreed to get me a gun. He told me he had just robbed some couples house and opened a drawer and found like 25 guns but he had to get rid of them so fast that they were gone now. He detailed the experience like it was some strange victory for him "The bitch kept screaming, I mean i told her i wasn't going to shoot nobody, But the stupid bitch had to keep screaming, So i kept the gun to her head for the rest of the time i raided their house" He laughed "That shut that bitch up.". I asked him what he wanted to be when he was a kid. "An actor or a rockstar" he said. He would have been a great actor. He had a faded tattoo that read "Rockstar" On his hand. It was way out of place from all the other tattoos, The big "KRIPT KILLERS" tattoo on his arm and lots of latin king tattoos. The rain before the storm. "Do you think you have a conscience when you are doing all that crazy shit?" I asked him. "I do have a conscience" he answered "But i turn it off when I need to." I traced his rockstar tattoo with my finger. "That can be pretty dangerous" I answered. "So?" He said. "So nothing, Except I love you, and I think its pretty stupid that you are already robbing people and shit when you JUST got out." I said. "Lil, C'mon, Did i give you shit when you asked for a gun? Did I say anything about that? Maybe we should go call the suicide hotline because i love you." He answered. Sarcasm in the air. Me and Tony were never really good at real conversation, and he liked it that way. We just joked and laughed and made fun of the suits. So I just opened his arms and let myself inside them and he put his hand inside of mine. Silence was golden. When I got up we promised to meet up again and then I watched as he walked back to his corner to sling crack.
Silent Killer.
Love, Lily
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I can see the whole thing play out in my head.