171. T (2)

I imagine your body ravaged by the drugs. 

Sunken cheeks, hollow eyes,

Walking ghost already half dead. 

I imagine you miles from home,

Toronto, Ontario, Illinois,

In cold winter streets while I,

Warm under the light of my computer screen,

Offer my friend just one dose of my prescription medication. 

Feeling like a teenage dealer,

Feeling like you. 

I think of the fields where you used to play baseball,

And how we are no longer allowed to roam the surrounding woods,

Of your sister’s rage, her grief,

The graduation you never got to see

But I saw. 

She looked beautiful. 

I saw the inside of your mind,

The diagnosis we shared,

I use the past tense because I still see your ghost haunting me. 

Somewhere between sparkling and gaunt,

In the videos I see of people being taken off the streets,

Taken to recovery,

Taken back home. 

And T, one of them shared your name. 

And for just a minute, I allowed myself to hope,

The same way I do when I scan the hungry faces I pass by on the bus,

there was something in me, from the beginning, that told me i could trust you

when i dared to open up and let you in, you jumped right in

you could talk on and on about nothing in particular

you made me feel like i mattered, even when everything in my head told me otherwise

you saw me and stayed with me whenever the nightfall would cascade

you were boisterous yet grounded

that we, for whatever reason, just clicked

you taught me the importance of taking care of yourself

i can still repeat your self-care reminders to this day

in the rare times you were down, i was there for you, and you made sure to tell me you appreciated it

you always gave the warmest hugs

you are one of the only people i feel truly safe with

how you could get me to smile with just you being there

how easy it was for me to feel like i could be myself around you

even with months apart, it would feel like nothing changed whenever we saw each other

despite having your number in my phone, you are far from me

and i don’t know when, or if, we’ll talk again

when i thought we were going to make it to forever

that our friendship was the closest i felt to a golden love

"Echos of Angels" is dedicated to my friend who disappeared in 2015. Her case has been largely buried, but I'm fighting to bring it back into the light.

Have you seen me?

Carving tattoos on back symbolize the spiritual rebirth & fertility of Rapa Nui's ancestors.

Last seen in 1868 being ruined while hauled away without permission.

Hoa Hakananaiʻa ('lost, hidden or stolen friend') ('lost, hidden or stolen friend')

The audacity to just steal the most prominent spiritual idol of Rapa Nui's native ancestors, is just so cruel and selfish. To just take a link from a peoples past when you have the power to restore it, and still choose not to is like sociopathic behavior.

I dunno where you went, but it ain’t fuckin’ here, man / One day there and another off the map, man / I just wanna know, where the fuck did you go / Left us hanging in the server several fucking months ago

I don’t feel right knowin’ my friend ain’t fuckin’ here / When I’m goin’ through the shit, and I am filled with all this fear / You’re the person that I’d go to during all my toughest fights / Waiting for your Discord status, just turn on the fuckin’ lights

My friend Mamba disappeared off the face of the earth 6 months ago, and we haven't heard or seen from him since then. His phone number went dead a month or two ago. Was incredibly depressed about it today as it was my day off and I didn't focus on work like I have been since returning home.

Anyways, he asked me to send a post out about this person:

So what I know is that that’s their username on Roblox. My friend believes that their pronouns are she/her but isn’t completely sure. They’ve sent out search parties before but haven’t had a big group yet.

If you find this person my friend told me to say that Absol sent you. They should know what it means.