chapter 2- heart cooks brain
when i first met toxie she was speaking in a british accent.
she was wearing torn black clothes and thick make up, she liked the misfits and didn’t know shit about bad brains. she told me she was able to switch back and fourth between her accents at a whim due to the amount of time she spent in both countries, i didn’t have the heart to tell her that her “british” accent was more broken australian then anything else. i knew she wasn’t 20, i figured she was 18, i mistook her drug use and sleep deprivation as age. she was b.e.d.s best friend, a perfect distraction.
every night id walk her home, it was a four mile stretch, three miles if we took the short cut. the short cut entailed walking through mines falls, a sprawling well groomed maze of trees and boulders, at a point we’d have to climb up an over pass and cross the highway. that morning i’d woken up hungover and horny. i’d brought b.e.d a soda and gave her half of my tuna sub, that afternoon she whipped me with her seat belt and i fell in love, i needed a distraction.
toxie and i were on the lawn of a bank on main street, there were 15 of us. we were tossing a foot ball in a circle with no rhyme or reason, most of us were high. in my left ear otis redding kept saying “thats how strong my love is” my snake brain was screaming. i was dead sober and less then fond of this motley crew of juggalos and amature punks, but still, i worried for them. i kept insisting we leave. eventually me and toxie left.
as we walked i thought of ways to make her laugh and most of them worked. she told me earlier that day she’d had sex and didn’t feel satisfied, i took this to mean she wanted satisfaction. looking back, i can’t help but relieve myself of justification and realize, she was seeking counsel, i was older and she trusted me. she was trying to tell me she felt used. looking back, eating her out on a boulder was a terrible idea.
a few days later i talked with toxie and b.e.d. at the same time, it was a first. it wasn’t long before mastodon and i were outside letting the girls talk alone, and it wasn’t long after that b.e.d was screaming at me, informing me that i just violated a sixteen year old. she came down on me with righteous fury, she only spared me her fist because she knew i’d like it. she slid her gracious angry words across me like serrated blades.
despite the horror of the situation i found myself bathing in her lexicon and doing my best not to get and erection. she was well spoken and gorgeous, spitting with rage and calling me a monster, all i could do was drool. i can’t recall what i said to diffuse the situation, but it worked, my mouth spoke of it’s own accord and she laughed, she laughed and i melted, all i could think about was what sounds she’d make when she came .
alot of the time we spent together is a blur.
and of all the people who spoke of love, issac brock said it best, “heart cooks brain” he said, and it did.i ate slept and drank her essence, i saw her as often as possible. i think it was a week later we shared our first kiss. an unnaturally low summer sun swung around the earth that day .
the insects and methamphetamine addicts were strangely quiet.
our trip to the parking garage was accompanied by a chorus of spanish profanity, motorcycles, and skateboards. her voice was a perfect mess of feeble resistance and lust. my knuckles and finger tips danced across her back, every tendon and fiber of my being worked in concert and an effort to remove the sorrow from her eyes. she turned to me and i thought she was about to protest, time stopped. her eyes were freshly tilled soil and flakes of cinnamon, they told me, “i’ve done this before”.
with remorse and determination she grabbed the hair on my chin and pulled me in and her lips said “i’ll do it again”