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Sunday, February 3, 2013

Some fucking guy


Because I knew

I tried
I tried so hard
Oh god I swear I did
I tried so hard
To be strong for you
For as long as I could
But that was much more
Then I could ever do
Be always strong for you
It took so much more from me
Then you could ever see
But I had to be
Strong for you
So those times
My strength fell through
They hurt so much more
Then you ever knew
Because
I knew
You needed me
To be strong
For you

Chris McQueeney    2/3/13    12:11 A.M.


I was kidnapped once…in Nampa Idaho. By some truckers that I didn’t even fucking know; because of some fucking guy I barely fucking knew. They forced me to come with them on the hunt for this guy I barely even knew, over one hundred and fifty dollars. They kidnapped me because of someone else, because of one hundred and fifty dollars. I had no Idea where he was. Not sure but I think his name was Jason. My sister and brother in-law actually saved my ass that day. Those fucking truckers that I didn’t even know held me at gunpoint (well, one of them had a gun…the other two had fathead screwdrivers the size of crowbars) for an hour and a half as they drove around looking for the guy.
When I got home, I was living with my sister, the only thing I could think of doing was grabbing my brother in-law’s shot gun and fucking killing those truckers that I didn’t even know. My sister and brother in-law saved those truckers that I didn’t even knew, because I was going to kill them, but she and he wouldn’t let me leave with the gun.
All over one hundred and fifty dollars, and some guy I barely even knew.
No
Those dumb fucking truckers almost died, because I wanted to go hang out with some fucking guy I barely even knew, that I didn’t even like, because he might have drugs… 

11 comments:

Wine and Words said...

I think you sleep less than I do if you really posted this at 1:27 AM :)

I can hear your anger and frustration, and in the end sentence...regret when you try to blame yourself. We do drugs, we drink, we screw around, we molest, we fuck up because we have unresolved grief. BIG GAPING HOLES of ever growing need that we haven't yet learned to fill in a way that doesn't harm ourselves. Then again sometimes harming ourselves is just exactly what we wanted because the slow death of self punishment has it's own rewards. I'm going to look at the upside here and applaud all the steps you've taken to not be this guy full of holes. I'm grateful that were okay, that you had siblings who cared enough to protect you, and you survived to protect your children and that they will grow up with a daddy that doesn't fill his holes with numbing substances. A dad who has his heart engaged, no matter how much it hurts sometimes.

Brian Miller said...

man..scary on being kidnapped...and in the end it was all over the drugs and desire to feed the habit...ugh...its hard as well to be strong for others...when we struggle to be strong for ourselves...

Wander said...

For a long time I blamed everyone else for the crazy shit that would happen to me. Believe it or not I wrote that end part three times, even now at times it is hard to acknowledge that I hold responsibility for much of what happens to me.
Brian I wasn't able to tell anyone how bad it was, how untenable things got, because that's how I learned

Ben Ditty said...

Thank God, you're okay. Did you think about calling the cops on them at the time?

christopher said...

On The Lower Rungs

They tried to take me
down not for me but for you
up in the mountains
where they could not go
and the dope you supplied to
the rockers, not me.
You smuggled, not me.
You made all that big money.
You had the grand boat
and the retirement
coming and it came
while I had to run away
to Arizona.

Susie Clevenger said...

This is a tough one to read. Glad you are alright. We write best from what we know. This carried such power.

BerlinerinPoet said...

Very tough to read (as someone already said), but very full of feeling.

HisFireFly said...

we can never be strong enough

that shines so clearly here

Natasha Head said...

Oh...wow...The things we do for money honey...no different than the things we do for anything we think we need. And when you're in that place...you do need it. That side of you that some are able to manage. I've not done well with that side of me...but she does give me fodder for wicked poetry...and if you make it through to write about it...straight up, no holds barred, in your face truth the way you've done here...you become the words that convince another to get well enough to write their own story...

ayala said...

A scary story...tough...and something that never leaves you.

Ann LeFlore said...

Very tough to read your story and sorry all this one had happened to you. But I think your sister is right in not letting you leave again with a gun. It sure would of been worse if you had of. Hope next time you want to hang out with such a low life you consider this one. Good luck and glad you made it home alive.
http://gatelesspassage.com/2013/02/02/reflections/