Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Wearing Drugs On Your Skin
Yeah, you're the cool of the water
You're the start of the summer
Keep me still like an anchor
In a storm you're the cellar
When I'm heavy with worry make me light as a feather
When I'm deafened by anger you're the song I remember
With the grace of a dancer and the strength of a pillar
When I'm starving to suffer you just fill me with laughter
You're a poet
And a saint
You are the only one I choose to imitate
Oh, like the love of a father through the eye of a camera
It's this picture I have seen
We're on a sloping hill of green
And you are walking there beside me
Frank's P.O.V.
Frightened? Yes, that has to be what I am in some way or form, but I don't think that was the entire equation; I couldn't just say the small fragile word and even attempt to let it explain the whole scenario in a single verb form. There' s just so much more too what I'm feeling than that. See I wasn't so much afraid of the towering silhouette in the corner of my view, but more so the easy way he was able to nonchalantly manipulate my life, sometimes without even noticing it the slightest bit. I wasn't scared of his full intentions but more so his careless mistakes, the ones that can so callously dissect and disembowel my life. The verbs and consonants that tumbled from his mouth, no I didn't fear those so much as I feared the chain reaction of the sounds both harmful and praised that so very easily have taken me every place I have been since I met him.
Like the old bruised and busted up recording studio of eyeball records, out front with our small trickle of new listeners where I first discovered Jamia's face nestled under a burnt orange cardigan in the bunch. The withered, sweating, concrete stage so deformed and destructed that unfamiliar, yet all to comfortable lips first danced against my own, or the months we spent so distant, strung up on a clothes line as the windy seconds warped by us and we swayed hanging ourselves with lost time, the lost time that he became a vulture, a buzzard, circling and luring an all to innocent Lyn Z into the scenario. Then this very seat that I sit so edgily caked in, carved into the finely woven fabric, my roots seeping between thin layers of vulnerable thread, entwining there like a statue, unresponsive to the warmth radiating from his calloused hands, which I have been deprived of.
I missed him, longed for him, starved for him and had become so emaciated from lack of contact… but I feared him… No, no I didn't fear him, I feared myself, my reaction and I knew I didn't deserve to be sitting planted in the seat in front of him, nor did I deserve his comforting antics. I deserved to be thrown out, starved and tied from the lowest branch waiting for the support to be snapped from beneath my feet. I certainly never deserved to be cowering in front of him like a broken fool, a joker for the king to poke and prod at. It shocks me that I have been able to wedge myself in to the scenery in this mans life for as long as I have.
"Frank… Frank, please… I won't hurt you. I'm here to fix things not to break them…" Gerard's voice swelled and invaded through my eardrums vehemently, reviving whatever was still left in my stale, dying armor. Fix things? This man might be amazing and be able to pull off some of the most astounding and miraculous things but I hardly think he could even attempt to fix this… or to fix my head because it's to far gone and crawled on much to long in it's twisted, winding, fucked up psyche form to even be the slightest bit altered now. Even with the precision of expertise hands and a mastermind buried deep within the cavity in their skull, no one would be able to shift and mend the twisted mangled strands and splinters that are my mind. I didn't dare move to lift my head as I heard the links of my bones quivering, chattering together and crackling, forcing themselves to keep my face to the floor.
"Fix things? So you fix things by plucking away from my wife the only being that actually loves and cares about me anymore? And without any reasoning either? I don't even know why I am here, Gerard. Jamia knows more about the reasoning than do I, all I know is that I was told by an asshole from the other line of the phone to be at gate twelve. So what did you do, tell Jamia about what we were? No, you couldn't have, she was to calm and happy, so do you plan on telling her or something? Your very own little way of 'fixing' things? Why am I here…" I questioned weakly as my attempted strong voice crackled and deteriorated, and I had feeling that all of the questions would become rhetoric.
The reasoning that has led me here just doesn’t make sense, the facts just don’t add up, they defy he laws of physics that control my world. Maybe he was planning on telling her now that I am here, his perfect little devised scheme that would seem like a favor for me, when in actuality it was only a tactic in the battle to destroy me. This could all be a set up fooling me into believing that he brought me here so that when he told her I would not have to face the dramatic torment of getting away from her, but now that I am no longer nestled in the safety of my home, terminating my very existence would not be so hard for him…
Cautiously, he kneeled to the ground in front of me attempting to peer up at my face through the curtain of brown hair cover it. I knew he couldn’t see my facial expression, nor my eyes, nothing except a few sections of skin that shown through the small parts in the strands of my hair, yet I still felt those beautiful hazel embers boring into my profile. My eyes ached, begged, struggled to at least attain a split second glance of lovely face before me. The way my body physically and mentally longed for this man was far worse than any addiction could ever even attempt to be, he was the filter of my intellect, the life support of my body and without him all systems shut down. My thoughts fogged and became caked in tar-like doubt and infectious paranoia, the blood in my veins ran cold and turned into an acidic perfume, coating my organs, gnawing my nerves into a shaky unsustainable mess. Crack addict withdrawals could never attempt to compare to the abandonment of this lovely creature.
His warm breath seeped through the strands of my hair, painting my face in its delicate precipitation as the reverberation of his thudding heart echoed through my ears, remaining there like a sound tunnel. Slowly my eyes traveled away from my rugged shoes and toward the contours his smooth, satin face where his color streaked eyes captured my own. My breath halted, a toxic dose of adrenaline pulsing through my arteries as those gold and emerald tented eyes excavated my own.
In those seconds I became paralyzed, hopelessly captured in the gaze of a king cobras arithmetic, but was this creature actually interested in my death or more so the continuance of my life? Would I be shredded apart in the thirst that pined for my blood? Reduced to a pile of shards dripping with a sickly sweet venom? Had this been a game all along, as if I were nothing more than an ignorant, hypnotized prey brought forth in times of hunger and lust, bitten and bitten repetitively until there was little left to keep me alive? And if that were the case, was this possibly the last feeble and reckless encounter before I would slip away for the final time?
Soft fingers parted through my hair, gently pushing it aside and grazing my icy, meritless flesh. His ginger touch melted through my pores as he traced across my lips and cheeks. A shaky breath parted my lips as I took in every feature of his magnificent seemingly glowing face, a face I hadn’t seen in what seemed like an eternity, a face that I had all along been surviving just to see again. My eyes fluttered closed as he traced his fingers gently across my eyelashes, sending tiny bolts of electricity shooting through my brain. Carefully I reached out, catching his hand in my own and holding it against my face.
“Why am I here, Gerard… I don’t understand…” I whispered quietly, trying to maintain a steady voice despite the growing ache in my throat. There was just no way for me to fully interpret any of this, surely I thought he would be angry with me, upset, I thought the only contact I might make with him again was the connecting of his fist to my face. The way he sounded on the phone, so stern an composed, harsh and determined yet at the same time it all seemed fake, nothing like the Gerard I knew and even though I knew it had to be a disguise then, I still expected a harsh punishment when he arrived. Yet despite it all, this is what I get, soft and gentle eyes scanning my flesh as ginger hands cradled my face… It just doesn’t make sense and the confusion from the situation was tearing a hole through my chest, causing a buildup of uneasy and panicked tears just waiting to burst out at any moment. All it would take is a single cruel word to break the well composed disguise I had been trying to hide behind, never had I felt this weak.
“You’re here because this is where you belong… I haven’t brought you here to hurt you or to get any form a revenge, you are simply here to get away from all of this with me . I can’t stand sitting at home with a woman I don’t love knowing my heart aches to be here with you, knowing that each and everyday we aren’t together that there is a possibility you will grow to hate me, and as much as I hate to admit it, I’m too selfish for that. I can’t let you go…” he murmured quietly, curling his hand carefully around my own. I cautiously opened my eyes to meet his tender and sincere gaze and the little pebbles of color that shown in his eyes made the truth in his words a thousand times more apparent.
“But how can you so sure that I haven’t already accepted letting you go… how did you really manage taking the risk coming here not knowing if I still cared about you? How can you still be so sure…?” He bit his lip nervously, clearly a bit shaken by the realization I had brought to view, the fact that he may not still have my heart in his grips like he thinks. He shook his head sheepishly, staring into my eyes.
“I wasn’t sure… I’m still not sure, but I’d much rather take the risk of being rejected than taking the risk of never seeing you again. I—I understand if you don’t want me here… I can leave, if this isn’t what you want then that is okay, I just couldn’t let you go without trying. I—“ eagerly my lips covered his, stopping him mid sentence in a small, innocent, yet longing kiss, anything to momentarily stop his speech of worry. I rested my arms around his shoulders, pulling back slightly and staring in his stunned hazel globes.
“Be sure, because I want to be here, I haven’t let you go”I murmured quietly before his lips collided with mine.
-------------------------------------
I'm Backkk :D
I know I haven't updated in about a million years, but I am back in updating mode.
I mentally ache for writing at the moment so you should expect updates again, I can't let writing go, I love it way too much.
So I didn't really fancy this update but meh, whatever xD
Let me know your opinions though? It would make my day (:
=Shaun
You're the start of the summer
Keep me still like an anchor
In a storm you're the cellar
When I'm heavy with worry make me light as a feather
When I'm deafened by anger you're the song I remember
With the grace of a dancer and the strength of a pillar
When I'm starving to suffer you just fill me with laughter
You're a poet
And a saint
You are the only one I choose to imitate
Oh, like the love of a father through the eye of a camera
It's this picture I have seen
We're on a sloping hill of green
And you are walking there beside me
Frank's P.O.V.
Frightened? Yes, that has to be what I am in some way or form, but I don't think that was the entire equation; I couldn't just say the small fragile word and even attempt to let it explain the whole scenario in a single verb form. There' s just so much more too what I'm feeling than that. See I wasn't so much afraid of the towering silhouette in the corner of my view, but more so the easy way he was able to nonchalantly manipulate my life, sometimes without even noticing it the slightest bit. I wasn't scared of his full intentions but more so his careless mistakes, the ones that can so callously dissect and disembowel my life. The verbs and consonants that tumbled from his mouth, no I didn't fear those so much as I feared the chain reaction of the sounds both harmful and praised that so very easily have taken me every place I have been since I met him.
Like the old bruised and busted up recording studio of eyeball records, out front with our small trickle of new listeners where I first discovered Jamia's face nestled under a burnt orange cardigan in the bunch. The withered, sweating, concrete stage so deformed and destructed that unfamiliar, yet all to comfortable lips first danced against my own, or the months we spent so distant, strung up on a clothes line as the windy seconds warped by us and we swayed hanging ourselves with lost time, the lost time that he became a vulture, a buzzard, circling and luring an all to innocent Lyn Z into the scenario. Then this very seat that I sit so edgily caked in, carved into the finely woven fabric, my roots seeping between thin layers of vulnerable thread, entwining there like a statue, unresponsive to the warmth radiating from his calloused hands, which I have been deprived of.
I missed him, longed for him, starved for him and had become so emaciated from lack of contact… but I feared him… No, no I didn't fear him, I feared myself, my reaction and I knew I didn't deserve to be sitting planted in the seat in front of him, nor did I deserve his comforting antics. I deserved to be thrown out, starved and tied from the lowest branch waiting for the support to be snapped from beneath my feet. I certainly never deserved to be cowering in front of him like a broken fool, a joker for the king to poke and prod at. It shocks me that I have been able to wedge myself in to the scenery in this mans life for as long as I have.
"Frank… Frank, please… I won't hurt you. I'm here to fix things not to break them…" Gerard's voice swelled and invaded through my eardrums vehemently, reviving whatever was still left in my stale, dying armor. Fix things? This man might be amazing and be able to pull off some of the most astounding and miraculous things but I hardly think he could even attempt to fix this… or to fix my head because it's to far gone and crawled on much to long in it's twisted, winding, fucked up psyche form to even be the slightest bit altered now. Even with the precision of expertise hands and a mastermind buried deep within the cavity in their skull, no one would be able to shift and mend the twisted mangled strands and splinters that are my mind. I didn't dare move to lift my head as I heard the links of my bones quivering, chattering together and crackling, forcing themselves to keep my face to the floor.
"Fix things? So you fix things by plucking away from my wife the only being that actually loves and cares about me anymore? And without any reasoning either? I don't even know why I am here, Gerard. Jamia knows more about the reasoning than do I, all I know is that I was told by an asshole from the other line of the phone to be at gate twelve. So what did you do, tell Jamia about what we were? No, you couldn't have, she was to calm and happy, so do you plan on telling her or something? Your very own little way of 'fixing' things? Why am I here…" I questioned weakly as my attempted strong voice crackled and deteriorated, and I had feeling that all of the questions would become rhetoric.
The reasoning that has led me here just doesn’t make sense, the facts just don’t add up, they defy he laws of physics that control my world. Maybe he was planning on telling her now that I am here, his perfect little devised scheme that would seem like a favor for me, when in actuality it was only a tactic in the battle to destroy me. This could all be a set up fooling me into believing that he brought me here so that when he told her I would not have to face the dramatic torment of getting away from her, but now that I am no longer nestled in the safety of my home, terminating my very existence would not be so hard for him…
Cautiously, he kneeled to the ground in front of me attempting to peer up at my face through the curtain of brown hair cover it. I knew he couldn’t see my facial expression, nor my eyes, nothing except a few sections of skin that shown through the small parts in the strands of my hair, yet I still felt those beautiful hazel embers boring into my profile. My eyes ached, begged, struggled to at least attain a split second glance of lovely face before me. The way my body physically and mentally longed for this man was far worse than any addiction could ever even attempt to be, he was the filter of my intellect, the life support of my body and without him all systems shut down. My thoughts fogged and became caked in tar-like doubt and infectious paranoia, the blood in my veins ran cold and turned into an acidic perfume, coating my organs, gnawing my nerves into a shaky unsustainable mess. Crack addict withdrawals could never attempt to compare to the abandonment of this lovely creature.
His warm breath seeped through the strands of my hair, painting my face in its delicate precipitation as the reverberation of his thudding heart echoed through my ears, remaining there like a sound tunnel. Slowly my eyes traveled away from my rugged shoes and toward the contours his smooth, satin face where his color streaked eyes captured my own. My breath halted, a toxic dose of adrenaline pulsing through my arteries as those gold and emerald tented eyes excavated my own.
In those seconds I became paralyzed, hopelessly captured in the gaze of a king cobras arithmetic, but was this creature actually interested in my death or more so the continuance of my life? Would I be shredded apart in the thirst that pined for my blood? Reduced to a pile of shards dripping with a sickly sweet venom? Had this been a game all along, as if I were nothing more than an ignorant, hypnotized prey brought forth in times of hunger and lust, bitten and bitten repetitively until there was little left to keep me alive? And if that were the case, was this possibly the last feeble and reckless encounter before I would slip away for the final time?
Soft fingers parted through my hair, gently pushing it aside and grazing my icy, meritless flesh. His ginger touch melted through my pores as he traced across my lips and cheeks. A shaky breath parted my lips as I took in every feature of his magnificent seemingly glowing face, a face I hadn’t seen in what seemed like an eternity, a face that I had all along been surviving just to see again. My eyes fluttered closed as he traced his fingers gently across my eyelashes, sending tiny bolts of electricity shooting through my brain. Carefully I reached out, catching his hand in my own and holding it against my face.
“Why am I here, Gerard… I don’t understand…” I whispered quietly, trying to maintain a steady voice despite the growing ache in my throat. There was just no way for me to fully interpret any of this, surely I thought he would be angry with me, upset, I thought the only contact I might make with him again was the connecting of his fist to my face. The way he sounded on the phone, so stern an composed, harsh and determined yet at the same time it all seemed fake, nothing like the Gerard I knew and even though I knew it had to be a disguise then, I still expected a harsh punishment when he arrived. Yet despite it all, this is what I get, soft and gentle eyes scanning my flesh as ginger hands cradled my face… It just doesn’t make sense and the confusion from the situation was tearing a hole through my chest, causing a buildup of uneasy and panicked tears just waiting to burst out at any moment. All it would take is a single cruel word to break the well composed disguise I had been trying to hide behind, never had I felt this weak.
“You’re here because this is where you belong… I haven’t brought you here to hurt you or to get any form a revenge, you are simply here to get away from all of this with me . I can’t stand sitting at home with a woman I don’t love knowing my heart aches to be here with you, knowing that each and everyday we aren’t together that there is a possibility you will grow to hate me, and as much as I hate to admit it, I’m too selfish for that. I can’t let you go…” he murmured quietly, curling his hand carefully around my own. I cautiously opened my eyes to meet his tender and sincere gaze and the little pebbles of color that shown in his eyes made the truth in his words a thousand times more apparent.
“But how can you so sure that I haven’t already accepted letting you go… how did you really manage taking the risk coming here not knowing if I still cared about you? How can you still be so sure…?” He bit his lip nervously, clearly a bit shaken by the realization I had brought to view, the fact that he may not still have my heart in his grips like he thinks. He shook his head sheepishly, staring into my eyes.
“I wasn’t sure… I’m still not sure, but I’d much rather take the risk of being rejected than taking the risk of never seeing you again. I—I understand if you don’t want me here… I can leave, if this isn’t what you want then that is okay, I just couldn’t let you go without trying. I—“ eagerly my lips covered his, stopping him mid sentence in a small, innocent, yet longing kiss, anything to momentarily stop his speech of worry. I rested my arms around his shoulders, pulling back slightly and staring in his stunned hazel globes.
“Be sure, because I want to be here, I haven’t let you go”I murmured quietly before his lips collided with mine.
-------------------------------------
I'm Backkk :D
I know I haven't updated in about a million years, but I am back in updating mode.
I mentally ache for writing at the moment so you should expect updates again, I can't let writing go, I love it way too much.
So I didn't really fancy this update but meh, whatever xD
Let me know your opinions though? It would make my day (:
=Shaun
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