day ONE THOUSAND ONE HUNDRED and FORTY SIX

FRED’S EYES

I watched him die.

I held him in my arms

and saw the life drain

from his frightened eyes.

I watched my fucking best friend die.

They stabbed him five times in the back,

then they ran off through the dark streets laughing.

And now I'm here again, out late,

hands buried in my pockets,

with my hoodie up and walking fast.

Except the streets don’t look the same.

(I watched him die. I watched him die.)

How you gonna keep it straight

when everything you knew has changed?

My best friend Freddy’s eyes, in death,

refuse to let me shut my own.

I lay awake for hours,

staring blankly at the circle

made by damp rot in the ceiling.

Tomorrow I will buy a gun

(I WATCHED HIM DIE. I WATCHED HIM DIE.)

My plan’s to smear the walls with blood,

my blood, go where it doesn’t hurt.

Every time I lie down

on my fucking bed, Fred dies.

--Bruce Hodder