Made from blood and carnage
Only shall the darkest rise
None to be spared in this wreckage
Save for the souls of innocents
The time is near
Every fear building to life
Revenge of the monster so bittersweet
Sheets/FrerardGerard's fingers ached from all the emails he'd typed that day. His head was pounding. His mouth was dry, and he was pretty sure he was coming down with something. Frank was out of town, and had been for two weeks on business, so there wasn't even some snuggling and tickle fights to look forward to upon stumbling into the apartment, deadbeat and exhausted. He leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes. Only an hour left, he told himself. Only an hour before you can curl up in bed.
The car ride home was excruciating. Gerard's head was throbbing so horribly, he couldn't even stand to listen to the radio. The purr of the engine was too loud. He thought his head was going to explode.
He pulled into the driveway, parked next to Frank's car that had just sat for two weeks, and would sit for another, until Frank came home. A dull ache rooted itself in Gerard's chest. He missed his Frank more than he'd ever admit. He missed coming home to snuggles and movies and half-decent meals that h
Protection Reflection - PrologueProtection Reflection: Prologue
How did parts of us get trapped in the mirror? Pixels part of a whole being pressed into reflective glass. Grains of sand that didn't seem so important when they were stolen from the beach. They never seem important until half the shoreline is gone.
Is it the same way with people?
Or the opposite?
Do we seem important when we are reduced to almost nothing, half of the person we used to be, and half the blinding tears we've cried?
Or are we important when we finally manage to pull everything together and glue the puzzles pieces down?
Don't we all wish we knew the answer to that?
But no one holds the answers. And we're still stealing sand to make glass--windows, doors, mirrors.
Sheets of reflective glass, showing what you really are. Outlining all the visible flaws. Hiding all the ones that crawl under your skin, waiting to be discovered. Displaying physical scars like billboards on skin, screaming "I'm not perfect". But neither are you.
His Return 2Frank stalled; there was no way Gerard just said that. There was no way those two words just came out of the taller man's mouth, released into the open air. Gerard watched him, eyes absorbing every detail--the new tattoos, the hauntingly nostalgic look in his eyes, the way his hands twitched with nerves. Gerard's breath was locked in his chest; it refused to be let out and replaced. Just as his heart would not let Frank go, would not let Frank be replaced.
"Wh-what?" Frank finally stuttered out.
"I said 'marry me.'" came Gerard's reply, whilst he shoved his hands deep into his jeans pockets. His voice almost stuck in his throat, barbed and deadly, but he forced them through his teeth; they were too important to not be said.
"I can't marry you."
Frank stared at the man--there was no way that he could marry Gerard. That would blow up in his face later on in life... But why did he feel like he needed to say yes? Even after all these years, he felt so inclined to accept t
To Whom it May Concern - Chapter 1 (I Am Me)To whom it may concern:
I am me.
I tell that to everyone. No one seems to get it though; it’s like some foreign language now. They’ll ask you who your role model is, and what you’re doing to be just like them. I’ll tell them Gerard Way or Billie Joe Armstrong and they’ll go “oh the guy from that emo band” or “the guy that ‘fell off the wagon.’ Nice choice.” It’s kind of sickening, to have someone you met five minutes ago put down the person that inspires you to be you. Kind of hurts too. To know that someone can’t see past the surface, or the amount of drinks someone’s had in the past few months. Yeah, they’ve gone through some crap, but guess what, they got through it. That’s what matters.
It’s frustrating, to be put down. To be told you aren’t good enough. To see everyone staring at you like you’re an alien, or a lion that’s going to eat them.
I walked into s
When It's TimeWhen It's Time
I sit alone in my bedroom,
Staring at the walls.
I've been up all damn night long.
My pulse is speeding,
My love is yearning.
I hold my breath and close my eyes and...
Dream about him.
Cause he's 2000 light years away.
He holds my malachite so tight so...
Never let go.
Cause he's 2000 light years away,
I sit outside and watch the sunrise,
Look out as far as I can.
I can't see him, but in the distance,
I hear some laughter.
We laugh together.
I miss you.
I miss you too. Though our time together was short. Hopefully we'll meet again someday and have more time to get to know one another in person.
Wherever you go,
You know I'll be there.
If you go far,
You know I'll be there.
I'll go anywhere,
So I'll see you there.
You name the time,
You know I'll be there.
I'll go anywhere,
So I'll see you there.
I don't care if you don't mind.
With Love, Your Valentine - Valentines Oneshot
With Love, Your Valentine
A crash downstairs woke Gerard from his sleep. He rubbed at his eyes with fisted hands, and sat up in bed, blanket and sheets pooling in a wrinkled mess around his waist. The crash didn't alarm him--it was probably just the dog running around and being a dumbass again. It didn't bother him anymore; Rocky probably just wanted to go out. He threw a glance at the empty space beside him, then to his phone. He clicked the lock button and the lock screen came up: 4:28a.m., February 14th. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Valentines Day.
Gerard swung his legs over the side of the bed, grabbed his phone, and tugged on his old Vans. He slid his jacket on and headed for the bedroom door. These lonely nights were simply a routine, one that Gerard didn't particularly enjoy or like. He just wanted to be able to sleep in on his days off. Was that too much to ask? He thought not, but apparently Rocky thought that idea was ridiculous, for he was scratchi
How To Fit InHow to Fit In
Let’s start off with your appearance.
Because you need a disguise to hide
Inside of a crowd.
Strip yourself of all of the clothing you use to express yourself.
So you can get lost,
And never be found.
Fix your hair,
Cake on some make up
Because in a crowd.
Looks will always speak louder than words.
People don’t want to hear what you have to say,
They just want to see a pretty face.
Fix your eyes that are too big.
You have too many ideas.
They rage around inside your head,
Like birds trying to escape a cage.
But never write those ideas down on a page.
Is a sin.
When you’re trying to fit in.
Just let them fly away.
Never to be seen again.
Now that you’re vapid,
Dull as a rock.
Not an original thought to be seen.
Yes, you’ve achieved
But was it actually worth it?
Trading in everything that makes you so spectacular.
To fit in with the rest of the main stream crowd.
Stop trying to
Only your body.
To what matters
Only to what has value to him.
Your marvelous self
radiancei am running
on blood and light
fluttering firefly chasms
in spaces once
i spit silver silences
that colour quickfire
a vivid fragility
i'm not faded;
The Girl Who Was Afraid To BeShe speaks to me fondly
of passions and talents,
of guitars and stars,
with such breathless intensity
then stops short and
for speaking at all.
All because somewhere in her life,
someone she loved broke her heart
her beautiful words
and telling her to
keep it down,
People aren’t born sad.
We make them that way.
A Letter To The Girl Who Hates Her BodyA letter to the girl who hates her body.
A letter to that girl
Who scrolls through tumblr.
Admiring all of those models.
With thigh gaps that look cute with skirts.
And a waist that you can barely see.
A letter to the girl
Who looks at models,
For their curves.
The way their hips go outwards
And their size D cup breasts.
Please don't look in the mirror,
And hate the girl you see.
That girl is you
And she should be loved unconditionally.
Because you deserve love.
And how much love is not determined on your waist size,
Whether you're chubby or skinny
You're still so very pretty.
You're so perfect.
So for every time you look in that mirror.
And tell yourself you aren't worth it.
That you're arms are too big,
Your hips aren't big enough.
I am a woman.
I am strong.
I have a body like a castle.
A kingdom made just for me.
And I will not destroy that castle,
By trying to starve myself.
By taking brick by brick and dismantling it
Dreaming Keeps the Dreamer SaneTo the dreamer.
The one who sits and stares into corners of the class room.
Dreaming of some place better.
Whether that place is real or not.
It is just anywhere other than here.
We paint over the whites of the walls.
Our minds are the paint and our eyes are the brushes.
Turning ordinary objects into castles that stand 30 feet tall.
And people into characters for our plays,
That fill our imaginative brains.
We tune out the lectures out of boredom or from wanting to escape.
We turn the blank of our note book's page
Into a mess of jumbled words of a song.
That we once heard as a conversation in a coffee shop,
It sounded like a soft tune then, just filling the silence
With soft mumbles and whispers,
Of a stranger's life that we heard bits and pieces of.
We create symphonies out of the rain
As the thunder rolls in the distance.
We turn the noise into music in our brains.
Something to distract us from the pain,
Because in the end,
Dreaming keeps the dreamer sane.
That's So Gay"That's so gay,"
Is what you say,
You've pushed one
Of your friends away.
"Oh no, honey,
Boys don't play
With Barbie dolls."
By enforcing gender roles,
You are killing
And telling them
That you'll love them no matter what*
Don't push your loved ones
With things you do or say,
Because words hurt;
But they hurt most
From the mouths of
The people that told you,
They'd always love you.
Saying, "that's so gay",
Or making them behave
In a gendered way,
Is telling them
That it's not okay
To be something
They can't help.
(And even if they could,
And it will hurt them
And every time you're together,
They'll be wondering;
"Am I wrong?"
"Do I really belong?"
Every time you say something like,
"That's so gay",
You burn someone's trust away.
And you can't build anything back
You Can't Compare PainAny pain is valid.
Some pain might be stronger than others,
And might be there for more tragic reasons.
But don't tell someone to be tougher.
Because someone else has it rougher than them.
The person you're saying that to
While the stuff they're going through
Might not be as bad as stuff others are.
It is still pain.
And pain hurts no matter what type of rain
Whether a drizzle or a downpour.
You're still going to feel the ice cold water pellets
On your skin.
I've heard someone say,
That you can't be depressed because you have a roof over you head.
And while I am very, very sorry that some can't say the same.
You should be ashamed
For saying such a thing.
Pain is not something that can be ranked,
It is not something you can compare.
We all still feel depression and despair.
Because we're all humans with emotions
Everyone gets sad.
So don't go and make someone feel bad
For feeling a certain way.