Just a quick one shot I wrote - A thought stream in the POV of a certain Mr. Bert McCracken about a cerain Mr. Gerard Way :P Read if you wanna ^_^
P.s - Reviews and rates will be much appreciated ^.^
Small simple safe price, rise the wake and carry me with all of my regrets. This is not a small cut that dries and scabs and flakes and heals. And I'm not afraid to die. I'm not afraid to bleed, and fuck, and fight. I want the pain of payment. Whats left but a section of pigmy sized cuts? Much like a slew of a thousand unwanted fucks...
Would you be my little cut? Would you be my thousand fucks? And make mark leaving space for the guilt to be liquid - to fill and spill over and under my thoughts. My sad, sorry, selfish cry out to the cutter. I'm cutting trying to picture your black, broken heart.
Love is not like anything...
... Especially a fucking knife.
When you look at me can you tell who I am? Can you understand me just by the way I move, and the way I act, and the way I breathe against your skin when I have you pinned to the bed? Do my eyes give me away? I always felt like you could see through them, see through me and all of my walls and defences, knock aside my masks and pretences... When you looked at me I felt like my soul had been dragged forward for your criticism, for your judgment... but you never judged me. And you never criticised me.
But I'm the biggest loser you could ever know.
I never understood you though... Why was it someone like you would ever want someone like me? I was nothing compared to the people you could have had - yet you chose me. And what started off as a one night stand progressed into something much more. How much more I cant tell... My thoughts just get screwed up inside my head, and its not my concern to decipher them. I dont care anymore. You dont care anymore... We dont care.
Your still beautiful though, maybe even more than you were then. Your hair still black, but a little more of the stylish messy look makes it sexier than I remember. Your hazel eyes still dance and swirl like I remember, and I know they still do because I've seen them. I've seen you... up on the stage with the guys you love, performing to the fans you love, singing those songs you love. And I bet your wife is backstage, that gorgouse female you love oh so much.
I know you didnt see me stood there, stood in the front row just staring. I had my hood up incase anyone recognised me and I didnt want you to see me. I'm pretty good at becoming invisible when I need to be. I'm not ashamed to say I miss you, but I guess thats just because I havent had as much excitement with a lover since you.
I'm not sure why we fell apart... Its a blur in my mind, smudged by all the crap that went on during that time. And I dont really want to remember, some things are just best left forgotten.
But sometimes I wonder whether you think about me like I think about you... And I think about you a lot. More than I should, but not enough for me to stop thinking of you. Your just enchanting, anyone can see it, you have fans both male and female more than willing to throw themselves at your feet... and beneath your sheets no doubt. I would, without a seconds hesitation. Knowing I've already done things with you so many people merely dream about just isnt enough, I didnt savour it enough.
One more time, just one more night for me to have you again, no strings - just to really savour what I didnt realise I loved so much. At the time it had all just been a frenzy of passion and lust, it was mindless, it was the madness of the moment - the moment we let happen again and again.
How could I deny you? Everything about you sucks me in, and I did everything you asked because I wanted everything you did. If you told me to get to my knees I did, told me to get on the bed I did, anything you wanted you got. And maybe thats why you didnt deny me, because you knew I was more than willing.
I guess in a way I was your whore, your own personal little slut who loved everything you had to give. It sickens me to think that way but at the same time the hilarity of it makes me shake with laughter. And I shake with laughter now, even as the tears slide down my cheeks and the blood congeals on the knife.
My wrists and arms and burn. And the bandages are sticking to the blood and everything is just fucking hilarious. I always knew I was crazy, and you bring out the worst of my insanity.
You, Gerard Way, you wont leave my mind. I think about you constantly and fuck its giving me a head ache. In the words of myself - "I want you, you dont want me, my mistake for wasting yours and mine..." But hey. Why use my own words when I could use yours sugar. Short, sweet, gets to the point.
Gerard baby - I am not okay.