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
JudgmentCapricious, erratic creatures,
You observe the likeness of unknown features,
Condemning, curving your mouth with disdain
For the decorum of oneself shall obey your malicious reign.
The abomination you painted in your narrow mind,
Was no more than an eccentric brother yet to find
Utter compliance you seek,
Yet of vain dejection you only reek.
The enmity that guides your every line
Is but poison you gulped instead of light so divine.
Depart from the ignorance that compels you,
Underneath the deception lies all that is true.
DarknessThe disease came in the form of quiet, loving destruction.
It pulled me out to sea,
Waves crashing in on me from all directions.
It planted lilies in my throat.
Until I choked on
Roses and chrysanthemums.
It made my mind my own personal head stone.
Nothing but polluted words
The flowers made it sound so playful and innocent when I said,
'I am better off dead.'
You rage wars.
Tugging at the skin underneath my eyes.
Of a once friendly stranger's goodbyes.
Quiet and loving.
You made me fall in love with the velvet of your darkness.
The way you cloaked yourself around me.
You gave me the piercing control of a knife.
'Death isn't a disease. It is a solution.'
A solution to the dark abyss.
Nags at the back of my skull.
It makes my eyes dull.
The darkness loved my light.
It loved it so much,
It was a parasite.
It stole my sun.
Now I am just a super nova
Collapsing in on itself,
Until I, myself, become the black hole.
A Letter to My Best FriendA letter to my best friend, for when he is feeling badly
When your sunny skies turn to thunder clouds.
When you can't hear your own thoughts
Over rumbling drum rolls of thunder.
I will be the umbrella to protect you
From the freezing rain.
I'd set my bones aflame
Watch them spark and burn.
I'd turn my soul into a Bon fire
Just to keep you warm.
I'd catch fire flies like stars.
I would keep them in a jar
And give them to you.
Because you light up the dark of the night sky.
When I am feeling blue
You are the one that helps me get through
The murk of my lonely thoughts.
And sometimes, I don't feel like you see yourself clearly.
I wish you could see you
The way I do.
I see you in the stars
You talk about them so fondly.
Every constellation reminds me of you.
I wonder if you are made of cosmos.
Such chaotic, pure energy,
I see you in the rain.
You are cold
I'd dance to the music of your soft,
Pitter- patter melody.
I see you in the air I breathe.
Because you are the thing
Fairy Tale GirlFairy tale little girl.
She wears a crown upon her head,
And befriends the monsters under her bed.
She sings songs to birds.
But no one ever heard
Her cries when the castle walls came tumbling down.
Real world little girl.
She weaves herself a fantasy inside her mind.
Hoping to find
The same peace from when she was young.
And she's like water colors.
So soft, and easily washed away.
She is the soft blues in the morning of a new day.
I found her hiding within her tower.
Far above the real world below.
She is so broken but never lets it show,
So desperate for some fairy tale ending.
She asked me quietly one day,
'Do you think the world will ever be like my story books?'
I thought for a moment before replying,
'In order to survive there are some bad things you have to overlook.'
'The world is grey.'
I heard her say one day.
As if accepting the odd mixture of good and bad.
Her voice sounded happy and sad,
All at once.
As she ripped away the last page
In her story book.
Your feelings are validI once read
that a teaspoon of matter
from a black hole
can weigh thousands of tons
so think about that
when someone tells you
your problem is no big deal
it may not look
like you have the weight of the world
upon your shoulders
but it sure can feel like it.
The Rogue FactorRise, fall, get up, stumble and run
it's getting harder to catch a breath
in this cloud of scorching lies you've shoved me in.
Stop right there, I am not following you again
you, the one who held a scythe to my throat,
had only brought me closer to a death I didn't cry for.
It's a price I've paid for having faith in
you, the one with blooming roses
and stinging, poisonous thorns.
Whose dreams was I chasing?
Were they yours, mine or
were they the illusions of a distant fall?
Heaven and Hell crossed at your feet
but you took the wrong turn and blindly led the way,
straight into a fire that welcomed me with open arms.
Doubt someone like you can atone,
you, the one with a habit of tearing souls.
Yet here I stand, and fight
against you, once and for all.
I grew tired of letting you take control.
I found a strength in a goal you can't claim,
my life and my work are no longer yours.
Hope shines bright you monster,
I'm not going to be a victim,
I'm not holdi
The GardeniasI told you I had wildflowers growing in my veins
and you thought it was quaint,
so when I took shears to my jugular -
you wouldn’t help me cut them out.
You thought I’d be opheliac
if they bloomed, splashing white
into my already paling wrists.
Maybe you thought the perfume would purify me
and being a tragic heroine
would be better than just being tragic.
Their roots choked out my heart and
to my blood
as I died,
drowning in the after-effects of Pretty,
all I could hear
was you telling me that you loved
that I had Gardenias in my eyes.
Eighteen Years OldTwenty years old, and unhappy with the world.
Twenty years old and threatening teenage girls.
Twenty years old and unsure of who you are.
Twenty years old and hiding behind keys
and a space bar.
At twenty years old, your anger gets the best of you,
at twenty years old, I'd hate to be you.
At eighteen years old, I feel sorry for you,
despite the amount of agony you've put me
Because the one who is the giver of your life
criticizes your appearance and your size.
Despite talking, and the gawking,
and all in between,
I know you're just a poor man suffering.
But you're twenty years old, and you should
You're twenty years old,
and you'll never understand this letter.
Fifteen years old, with the mind of a toddler.
Fifteen years old, and though I'm writing this,
I shouldn't even bother.
Fifteen years old, and you're already a professional stalker,
you're toxic, your disgusting, and a suicide blogger.
Fifteen years old, and life is a game, you can ruin people,
play with pe
uncertainty is a meal i can always finish.i.
she says she thinks i wear my heart well,
and i tell her it's only because i don't wear it at all
sometimes i think my veins are breaking because they get so thin and purple
and sometimes they are blue as the sky we live under,
bulging beneath the unbroken skin of my wrists like they are straining to touch
the oxygen that writhes above them, so close to contact but
never able to truly meet.
we stay together, not through thick,
only through thin
my friend confessed her sexuality to us
maybe three months back,
but i still can't seem to find my own "label"
and it is sad because i want to be able to label myself in a
world where we are shamed by our names
i live in a city where the people care so little for each other
that each passing day i am painfully reminded
of how much i can hate
and not enough of how much i can love