.my bright red kite in a dark cold rainstorm.

For future reference, The 'girls' are Rachel, Brittany, Cloe, Brianna, Michelle, Shelby, Jacquie Siska and Ashley Blankenship, The last ones surprised me too. I Think subconsciously my brain just picked out the girls that I ever loved, for however long, a week, 30 seconds or years. I think i just filed through everyone that ever meant anything more than just a friend. Not necessarily sexual, just something. I think if you don't understand what I mean then someday you'll feel it, but, anyway, i think most anyone who would read this would understand.

So, here I am in this field that I used to play in and fly a kite when i was 10, before i ruined my youth, before i gave it away. That was when we had our camper, our transportation that brought my parents to alcoholic summers and alcoholic fights and alcoholic neglect. Fuck.

This field, this dream rather shifted from black and white, to color, to white and black. The sun was shining and the air was warm, i think that may have something to do with lift, flight, something.

I had my kite out, in this black and white scene, about 100 feet in front of me. all around me was beautiful and warm, i felt my sun as it warmed my teeth. But I could see the rain on my red kite, the storms, everything in my head. I could see a nice (angst)cloud free for my kite to fly and i tried to bring it there, but behind me there was conversation, about how much i hurt, and how much i hurt. my ears don't ring, they sting.

I was doing my best to move on and enjoy the day but the storms would follow me and send my kite bouncing in the mud, red smudged brown now.

This rain didn't stop, this all okay around me feeling didn't stop. The grass would flash green to tease me, then ran back to black.

Finally im scared, and worried, i cry in the sun. the girls come to me, one at a time. I hug them and hold the string with one hand. They all talk to each other, talk to me, lay in the grass, sit on rocks, eat bean burritos, explain this picture, that picture, smoke cigarettes, walk with me, hands on my shoulders, hands on my waste, that moment, week, 30 seconds or year all came back to me, and they were each with me. (I know its a selfish dream, but it was my dream.) Eventually my bright red, wet red, dark red kite dries as the storm subsides and everything is fine. everything is smiles, the black goes color and they all leave, eventually, they stay for there respective, week, 30 seconds or year and then im alone. for some reason, Brittany stays the longest, sitting on a bar waiting for a ride at Michigan's adventure, with her hair wet from the other park and face golden in the sun that's going down I say i love you and shes gone, and this all goes black. now my kite, my optimism that was always red goes to black and white along with the field and the rocks. my kite still flies and i enjoy the dismal feeling. Maybe i grew up. Maybe im alright. Maybe i moved on. Goodbye Brittany, girls.
Love,
.holden.