FicWad

A/N: Hey, this is just a poem I came up with at like, 2am last night..it's kinda frerard- there are no actually names, but it's meant to be in Frank's point of view about Gerard. It might be kinda bad- poems aren't really my strong points- i'm better with stories. anyways, I hope you enjoy and that it's not too shitty! please R&R :)

‘Love is the red, the rose on your coffin door.’

My skin; soft, vulnerable, defenceless.
The blade; glimmering, enticing, dangerous.
My heartbeat; faster…faster……faster.
My mind; whirling, desperate, reckless…
…made up.
Sharp, tainted silver strokes innocent skin,
Piercing unmarked flesh,
Seeking the scarlet warmth that seeps from within,
Trickling down the white of my wrist like tears of anguish;
Like the tears of anguish I’ve shed over you.
You.
Glittering green eyes that reel me in, enchanted,
Brimming with intelligence, imagination and empathy,
Shimmering with love, hope and dreams,
Shining bright; so bright,
Brighter than any star in the endless velvety sky of a night.
Mingled scents of charcoal, creativity and cigarettes linger,
Entwining with the dishevelled strands of your hair;
Blacker than the ebony sheen of a raven’s feathers.
You.
I can almost see your shining eyes now,
Smell your sweet, smoky scent,
Feel the warmth of your embrace…
But only ever an embrace of friendship.
Just friendship.
Those two words pierce my insides like a dagger,
A dagger incrusted in acidic, lethal venom.
Pain sears; mind reels; physical wounds numb; emotional peak.
And I cut.
I butcher,
I slice,
I disfigure.
I hack,
I mangle,
I destroy;
The soft, defenceless skin of my wrist, once pale and pristine,
Now tainted and stained with angst.
Once; for my weakness, my cowardly silence,
The blossoming bubbles of blood counting the hundreds of times I never tell you.
Twice; for my stupidity, my inability to move on,
The blossoming bubbles of blood counting the hundreds of times I’ve failed to forget my feelings for you.
The scarlet blood is no longer mere bubbles oozing from the wounds,
Painting a morbid picture on the white canvas of my skin,
It’s crimson and vivid, spewing haphazardly out of the mutations,
Staining my wrist a metallic, rusty red,
Like a macabre bracelet of self-destruction.
My breath catches in my throat.
Finally; for love.
Pure, true, love.
Trying to let the unwanted feelings seep out of me along with the red,
Trying to bleed away the feelings that constrict my heart like chains of barbed wire,
The rusty metal tugging painfully every time I see you and…
…her.
I want it all away,
Away forever, so I won’t hurt anymore.
But somehow, I know it’s not use.
Even if I bleed dry,
Even when I die…
I know this love will never, ever cease.


was it okay? sorry if it was shit :L anyway, please R&R to let me know what you think :) thanks for reading!

CosmicZombie xo