Post by DAVID ANTHONY HARLEM on Dec 13, 2010 9:12:26 GMT -5
Killed myself when I was young
With my fingers on a poison gun
'Cause I had to come back new
Wanna walk on the ocean blue
The air on that morning was cold and dry. The sky was flooded with bleak, washed out clouds. In the dimness, the naked bodies of the trees looked black. David cut a hunched profile, spider-arms draped over his bent knees. A plume of smoke rose from the cigarette pinched between his fingers, curling above the nub of ash. His eyes were set in the dark circles of the sleepless , red-shot and heavy-lidded. His head was low with fatigue.
Long night.
He was perched on a picnic table, on the outskirts of the concert grounds. It was still too early for concert crowds to be gathering or for the security guards to be setting up parameters. For once, he was without guitar; it was only him, seated on the table-top, muddied chuck-taylors defiling the bench-seat.
Dave raised the cigarette to his lips, sucking in a lungful. His clothing smelled like smoke and booze. His hair was tousled, darkened and sticky and dried to the right side of his face. Blood was drying on his cheek and neck, staining the gray fabric of his t-shirt. It was scabbing on his knuckles and ear-lobe and on his brow.
David's lips – cracked and bleeding – were hovering just below a smirk. When a musician partied, he did it right.
And I'm gonna leave this town
With the people all tumbling down
And my boots on the diamond road
Behind such a heavy load
Wearing: This
Song: Killed Myself When I Was Young, AA Bondy
Notes: Inspired by actual events.
