‘What’s her face’ became my best friend; I tried to see her every day. I met her through a mutual homegirl, about a year ago.

I asked her, why are you out here for? I guess she wondered too.

She had told me once If I am ever too much, just drink some *****.

It stuck with me. ‘What’s her face’ always knew what to do.

What attracted me about her was that she never judged, she never lied, never gave me a reason to start a fight.

I escaped home to go see her, we painted all day and all night. I scraped up change! At this point, I really needed her.

She was home! She didn’t make me feel crazy. I was never alone. She held me. She helped me.

**** PAINTING!

She kept me... She kept me whole. I thought so. ‘What’s her face,’ what’s her name, I can’t remember for the life of me!

It’s Crystal!

Yeah...

Crystal last name Methamphetamine.

I should've listened to Gucci Mane, I’m stubborn I get it. I was a dummy and got lost in the sauce. **** the paint, I was in agony pain! **** these feelings and **** healing.

Crystal was dope, she helped me cope. How does that slogan go?

DRUGS, NOT HUGS!

You know which one, the one they had you pledge you’ll stay “drug free,” they had you wear a red ribbon on your wrist for a ******* week.

I’m so angry, why did I feel so lonely? I missed my sixteenth birthday. I was grounded cuz my mom found my piece.

It was pink.

I hate pink.

It didn’t matter, not for crystal, not for me. I was at peace, twisting the pookie!