FicWad

“Mikey”
Gerard.
“Little Bro.”
Oh no.
“Don’t leave.”
I must.
More tears.
“I wont let you go.”
I would have smiled to myself,
lies, lies, so many lies,
they weigh down the corner of my lips like lead weights.
You have no say, my once dearest Lover;
my choice, my choice,
my choice alone!
“Get better.”
A kiss, a kiss of death.
“Please get better.”
I can’t you just don’t understand.

Epilogue

Life,
two decades gone
Death,
an eternity spent in your remorse.
Those who hold the blade have little to fear.
Remorse is a term given to grief.
Those alive, are remorseful,
for their deed’s have been done;
those who are dead have nothing but cold.
Blade holders, those who fear no death,
those who love the darkness,
feel no remorse,
for they escape the grief within the world.
Just remember that the next time you look at me;
in that picture on my casket, as you mourn my leaving.
Grief,
Remorse,
regret,
they are for the living,
for my brother,
for his lover,
for the cheater,
and the hater.