Lost, then found. But not the way I left it.

Hark! the herald angels sing,
Glory, glory to, glory to,
beating the shit out of something we stole!

So we are driving home from grandmas. i spot this black bike that looks A LOT like the one bike that was stolen from my place. said supercycle on the side. we stop dad backs up and we take a look. sure as hell it is my bike. its an old bike, and i don't know many who have the same bike, never mind a hard model to find.
it had the one missing cap on the "shock" and all the clips for the lights.

i could have cried. not because i found it, but.. because... it was gone. they destroyed it! how could they?! it was my 1st real bike! my dad bought that for me when we were flat ass broke and i was kissing my knee caps whenever i tried to ride my old pink one. i went to folk fest for the 1st time on that bike.
and now, its gone. they destroyed everything. the gear shifter is busted and hanging on by a single wire. the lights were ripped off, all the cords yanked out, brakes are pulverized and twisted at odd angles.

memories flashed in my head. riding it and feeling free. now its an empty carcass and i knew it was gone. so we got back into the car and drove away.

i think i need to write about this.