Jesus saves, my children!

Fuck off, bitch. Jesus don’t save shit. Jesus don’t do shit. Get on out my face. You see that motherfucker? All greasy and grubby without a pot to piss in, talking ‘bout Jesus saves. Jesus slaves, yo. Truth…Down here is my spot. This is where I come when…this is where I come when…Sheeit. I just like this spot, yo. You like it? I like the stones. They’re smooth, and the wind don’t get in here. The kids fuck around in here during the day. You see the graffiti they got all up in this piece? But it’s cool. At night it’s cool. Don’t nobody fuck around in here at night. I come here…Shit, man, that’s the most I’ve heard you say all night. Thanks, man. Can I tell you something? Sheeit. I trust you, man. I like you. I don’t know you, but I trust you. That prolly sounds fucking stupid, right? Fuck it. It’s what I’m feeling. And it ain’t just that I’m still fucked up from your cock. It’s something else. Sheeit. I must be high…You got kids, man? Yeah, I got two baby girls. Well, not no more. Maybe not ever again. Don’t know. Fucked up hard. Trying to scratch my way up again. Wrong fucking people, wrong fucking places. Someone told me once you can get used to life on the bottom, that it becomes a home, ya know? A fucking home. You believe that? My punk ass father stabbed my mother when I was just a girl. Tied me to the fucking radiator, made me watch. Still got the burns on my forearms. See? It was fucking winter. Had the heat blazing. Sat there, crying…Sat there. Motherfucker killed her, all fucked up on angel dust, thought she was someone else. Fucking blew his head off with a shotgun then. Saw that too. Well, heard it. Hoped it was for me. Hoped I was dead. But nah. I was still alive. Burned my fucking arms and fucked up my wrists good getting out of the rope. Angel dust or no, my father was a dumb motherfucker. Couldn’t tie a knot for shit….Sorry, man. You prolly don’t want to hear this shit, and here I am, just flapping my fucking mouth like a fool…What? Thanks, man. You don’t have to do that. Yeah? A’ight then…I know. I know you gots to go. I gots to go too. Thanks for sitting here with me. Can I ax you something before you go? Why’d you run out like that?...Yeah. I know what you mean. Sometimes you just gotta go….Listen…I ain’t ever gonna see you again, am I? I can tell. I can tell when I’m never gonna see someone again. That’s a’ight, man…You take it easy…Thanks…Thanks for the time…

Hey, baby. You know where I could score a twenty sack?

Nah, man…Nah.

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