I was on day release from rehab, but I promise, I’m a good kid. My brother Tristan picked me up. My best friend. Blood would make us no closer.
We shared memories and talked of my ugly past.
It had been 2 months since I’d seen or spoken to a familiar face and I was institutionalised by this point.
Tristan asked me what I wanted to do. My first thought was escape to France, but I settled on getting a tattoo. The contract that I signed on entering the treatment centre stated, “NO TATTOOS whilst undergoing the treatment.” But fuck it, I didn’t get into this situation by sticking to the contract, so off we went.
My right side is chaos, my left side is balance. Balance is what I’ve learnt, chaos is what I know. It's now captured in my mind, framed on my body. So long as the two exist within my life, I am whole.
There are many parts of my past that I’m relieved to leave.
But Tristan is family, always will be.
His mark on me will remain, even when the ink fades.
written by oscar