Salem Bartholomew Decker

an ex-major league baseball player who lost it all when he lost his arm in a car accident. Is now struggling with his issues via- alcoholism, and an addiction to sex. Is going to run out of money soon.

At a slightly average height of five feet and seven inches, Salem is a lean man. He was never too stocky, though he kept his strength up. During his time as a baseball player, he kept to a strict and healthy regime. At the loss of his right arm in a car accident, the twenty seven year old just gave up. The beginning of a beer gut has replaced his abs. Dark sandy blond hair goes un-brushed daily, with matching stubble. Dark blue eyes rimmed red.

Cynical and depressing is what many people describe Salem out to be. Before the accident he had a pleasant and humorous attitude. Losing his career overnight, just made the man give up hope. He was in his prime, and was only replaced by a no good rookie that still had to prove himself. He loses himself in alcohol, and plenty of one night stands. Sometimes not even noting or caring for the gender of the poor sap that was pathetic enough to bed a one armed man. Or accept money from. He's a black hole.

I miss you.

the end.

Love, Salem.

I wish I could say that

I hate these things

the sort of things that just bring up knots in my

heart

and keeps going up faster and faster up the chart

I used to live like the kings

with my wicked arm

which I lost

it all started with a smash

accompanied with a car alarm

Let me tell you this again

I miss you baseball

miss the way I could entertain

though I just lost it all


my sister says to me

" Grow up and stop moping and hoping, that your arm will grow back. Its never coming back, get over it. Grow up, get some help. I'm tired of carting you around. Call me when you're no longer a dick."

The last I ever saw of her. She was my ride, to the bars

even though I'm scared of cars

You see baseball

I've been told that I've gotten some problems after
I wasn't able to play you
anymore

that I've grown angrier

scary

self abusing even if

I didn't put the knife to my

wrist

not like I could hold it to my wrist

more like my throat


my dear baseball

I'll tell you this

I locked myself up for a long long long long time

I learned to hate people more and more

jealous of their symmetrical bodies

I did harm myself

even if it wasn't with a

knife or

r o p e

I drank my pain away

slept

away with any woman, or man who didn't

grimace

at the lack of an arm


even then

with that sort of a t t e n t i o n

I still hated them

over and over again

I don't really plan

on making a new being out of me

though I want to make my team happy

they say to me

" Pick yourself up Decker, we still love you man. Though reading about you in the tabloids, isn't so great anymore."

Okay baseball, I admit

I haven't been too proud of what I've

done

or how I'm

acting

wait

why am I still doing this

thing?

it sends knots to my heart

because I'm writing to you

baseball

I really miss you

I'd do anything to get you back

though anything won't work

not even selling my soul to a

d e v i l

so I've found a new friend my

lovely

baseball

its name is alcohol

alcohol doesn't let me down

I've still haven't gotten over you baseball

though alcohol numbs the pain

turning me more into the people hating monster I've become

alcohol whispers sweet nothings to my ears
"love you, love you. I'll never let you down. You don't need two arms to play with me, shhh. Quiet now, I love you."
I silently listen to the sweet nothings, give into the sweet nothings.

break down

take cold showers at nights

because I'm not

okay

because I'm loved by alcohol.

Though I still love you baseball.

Love always, Salem.