Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
...I'm not sorry...
6 ReviewsThis is a disturbing Waycest. Don't like don't read. R&R!:D
He left.
Why?
I don't know.
You say depression?
I don't know.
Nobody knows.
Y'know he kissed me?
He touched me.
He pleasured me.
My brother.
I'm sick, you say?
I'm not.
When I found him.
Bleeding. Stone cold on the bathroom floor.
I craddled him.
I told him how much I loved him.
Catching the tears from his eyes, my chewed sleeve, damp.
I would savour those tears.
Gee left me.
I loved him.
You call it incest?
You call me sick?
You're not the one who's stood over his grave as I write this.
You're not the one who's tears have been absorbed by the paper.
AGAIN! You call me sick, you call it incest?
I am not a monster.
Y'know,
I told our parents about us at his funeral.
They were disgusted.
The still love me though, I know it.
Stop saying I'm sick!
You're really pushing me, dear.
Two years from then Mom and Dad had another baby. You.
They named you Gerry.
After my Gerard.
You grew up so fast, I'm now at your College Graduation.
You look just like him Gerry. You look just like Gerard.
I smiled.
Life was just perfect.
But now...
I'm sitting in a cell.
I'm locked up.
Why? You ask?
I fell in love with you, Gerry.
You were Gerard in another Life-form.
I just knew it.
I often told you to let me call you Gerard when we fucked.
But you didn't seem to like our fucking much did you?
You cried out.
I chose to ignore you as I was having too much fun.
But now I'm on the phone to you from the prison visiting area.
Stop saying it Gerry-dear!!
Stop saying I'm crazy!
I know you love me, just give it a chance.
Mom and Dad steer you away from the visiting area.
But before you go.
You decide to hurt me.
You tell me I'm sick, crazy, diluded and that you want me to die.
Do you know how much that hurt me Gerry?
It hurt me alot.
So now I'm back in the cell again.
Watching the blood drain away from my body.
Watching my life slowly coming to an end.
I can hear people trying to help me.
Nurses. Paramedics.
I laugh to myself because they are too late.
I'll be with my Gerard soon.
I know he still loves me.
I'm floating down to the Flames of Hell.
I see Gerard.
I told you so.
And also..
I am not fucking sick.
I am not fucking crazy.
I am not fucking diluded.
And you know what?
...I'm not sorry...
Why?
I don't know.
You say depression?
I don't know.
Nobody knows.
Y'know he kissed me?
He touched me.
He pleasured me.
My brother.
I'm sick, you say?
I'm not.
When I found him.
Bleeding. Stone cold on the bathroom floor.
I craddled him.
I told him how much I loved him.
Catching the tears from his eyes, my chewed sleeve, damp.
I would savour those tears.
Gee left me.
I loved him.
You call it incest?
You call me sick?
You're not the one who's stood over his grave as I write this.
You're not the one who's tears have been absorbed by the paper.
AGAIN! You call me sick, you call it incest?
I am not a monster.
Y'know,
I told our parents about us at his funeral.
They were disgusted.
The still love me though, I know it.
Stop saying I'm sick!
You're really pushing me, dear.
Two years from then Mom and Dad had another baby. You.
They named you Gerry.
After my Gerard.
You grew up so fast, I'm now at your College Graduation.
You look just like him Gerry. You look just like Gerard.
I smiled.
Life was just perfect.
But now...
I'm sitting in a cell.
I'm locked up.
Why? You ask?
I fell in love with you, Gerry.
You were Gerard in another Life-form.
I just knew it.
I often told you to let me call you Gerard when we fucked.
But you didn't seem to like our fucking much did you?
You cried out.
I chose to ignore you as I was having too much fun.
But now I'm on the phone to you from the prison visiting area.
Stop saying it Gerry-dear!!
Stop saying I'm crazy!
I know you love me, just give it a chance.
Mom and Dad steer you away from the visiting area.
But before you go.
You decide to hurt me.
You tell me I'm sick, crazy, diluded and that you want me to die.
Do you know how much that hurt me Gerry?
It hurt me alot.
So now I'm back in the cell again.
Watching the blood drain away from my body.
Watching my life slowly coming to an end.
I can hear people trying to help me.
Nurses. Paramedics.
I laugh to myself because they are too late.
I'll be with my Gerard soon.
I know he still loves me.
I'm floating down to the Flames of Hell.
I see Gerard.
I told you so.
And also..
I am not fucking sick.
I am not fucking crazy.
I am not fucking diluded.
And you know what?
...I'm not sorry...
Log in to rate and review this story