Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco
Why am I standing on this ledge?
Do you ever get the feeling that you're contagious? When you walk in a room, dose everyone turn their heads, do they avert their eyes, tell their kids not to talk to you? Act like you're not there? Then when you walk out, can you here them speak? Do you here them tell the others what a poor kid you were? What a hard life you've been facing? How much they wished they could help when they don't mean it? It feels like that every time I walk into a room. And sometimes I can hear the people tell each other that they want me to leave.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
I once walked into a classroom at my school with a black eye and red wrists. I guess, if I was any other person, someone would have said something. Someone would have told an administrator that I was self-destructive. Then again, even if they had done that they would have been wrong. That was the first week it had started. It wasn't my fault I forgot long sleeves. And it wasn't my fault my wrists had cuts and my face was bruised. I didn't start doing it to myself until a year after that incident. And I never slipped up on not wearing long sleeves again.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
Have you ever turned your shower to the hottest temperature possible and stood there until you're skin went numb, waiting to see if it would ever get hotter? Waiting to see if you're skin could melt off? Has all of you're cut up and bruised skin turned bright red from the heat? If only I could count the amount of times that's happened in the last week.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
My mother used to tell me, "Ryan, you can and will become just as successful as your father." And I guess, that might have been true if she never left. I was never told about her leaving, I found out when my dad started drinking more. Or, I guess you could say that after a year of not seeing or hearing from her I knew she wasn't coming back. Then again, I guess right now I am about as successful as my drunk ass dad.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
Do you remember being taught how to ride a bike? Or being taught how to swim in a pond with your family? Going on small vacations to bond and spend time together. Did your perfect fucking family teach you how to read? How to drive your expensive ass car? How to work your god damned television? Did they tell you that you would always be better than everyone else around you? Because I know you act like it. And I know they did. They put an interest into your life, where I was left completely alone. I was never taught how to do anything. I simply adapted, learning what I had to.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
You were always so well liked. Everyone who ever met you instantly loved you. You always came off as that happy go lucky kid. Just so easy to get along with. I was one of the only people you told your problems to. I was the only one who could see through the smiles and know when you were hurting. And yet, even after I gave you my mind, body, and soul, you still just shrugged and carried on. Because you knew, you knew that even though you would be the only one I would ever love, that you would always find someone else. You always knew.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
Have you ever gotten beat up by your own father? Has he slammed you against the wall and beat you black and blue? Did he grab a knife one day and start screaming that it was all your fault that your mother left? Did he cut into your tiny, ten-year-old wrist? I know you haven't. Because if you knew how much it hurt, you would tell me. You always told me. And you never fucking asked me anything.
So why am I standing on this fucking ledge?
You've got a dirty mouth and a filthy mind. I once tried to count the amount of lies you told me in one day. I stopped when I made it to fifty. Let's face it, you never told me the truth when it mattered. I was always just a toy, and you've seemed to grow tired of me. Sometimes I wonder why I've ever bothered to listen to you. Why I tried so hard to matter in your life as much as you did in mine. But you never did.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
How many friends have you talked to today? How many people have given you special treatment? How many girls have flocked to you? How many have asked for your number? How many people have you made laugh? When was the last night you spent alone? If you were to see me, would you even remember my fucking name? Did you ever notice that you stole my only friend? Spencer and I used to be close, we used to spend so much time together. So what did you do when my attention was on someone other than you? You took all of his attention. You made up lies to make me seem like I was going to destroy everyone. You stranded me on an island in the middle of nowhere, without a fucking pistol to kill myself with.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
You were so selfish. So perfect and selfish. I gave you everything, everything I had. And I know it wasn't much. Yet you took it, you took it all. And then you burned it down. How did it feel to have my life in the palm of your hands? You know I've threatened this before. You and Spencer both new. And yet, you seemed to forget when I started going under. Maybe I wouldn't be up here if you knew just how bad it was. But that's just a lie. Because you wouldn't notice. You would be to busy trying to suck more attention back to you. To get more and more and more. Because you're a selfish prick. Why the hell do I love you?
And why am I standing on this ledge?
Have you ever felt like you were drowning? That the water was slowly encasing you. Suffocating you. All you can do is try to get out. Try to pull yourself out of the water. But you can't. You're being covered, and you can't get out. That's how I feel now. Like I'm drowning. Even when I'm no where near water.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
You're love is like a fucking knife. The more I get, the more it hurts. The sharper it is. The more blood pours out of me. I used to cry myself to sleep when I thought of you. When I remembered all the things that you promised. When I remembered all those happy moments that we had. I know you wanted a perfect relationship. I know it was all my fault. I was destroying your perfection when I destroyed myself.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
Have you ever had a panic attack? I'm guessing you haven't. So I'll tell you what it feels like. It feels like you can't breath. You can't think. You feel anxious. Lost. You're heart starts pounding, and you can't do anything. It feels like you're having a heart attack. And you can't do anything. You can't do anything but wait for it to pass. How many times do you think I've had panic attacks because of you? Because I'm sure that it's more than you would think.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe all of this is just me overreacting. But I find that hard to believe when you haven't said a word to me in the longest of times. When it feels like Spencer's forgotten who I am. When my own family doesn't want me. When I'm left alone. In the cold and rain. Did you know that I was kicked out last week? Probably not. I don't know how you would have been able to know. I miss you. That night, when you told me that you never wanted to see me again, it broke me. Destroyed me. You were the one who put this thought back in my head. And now I can't stop myself. Because a life without you isn't worth living.
So don't you dare ask me why I'm jumping off the ledge.
Because I know you know all the reasons why I'm falling right now.
Would you believe me if I told you that this is the closest to feeling alive I've been in months?
God, I'm sorry for doing this. If you still love me. I'm so fucking sorry.
I love you Brendon.
Do you ever get the feeling that you're contagious? When you walk in a room, dose everyone turn their heads, do they avert their eyes, tell their kids not to talk to you? Act like you're not there? Then when you walk out, can you here them speak? Do you here them tell the others what a poor kid you were? What a hard life you've been facing? How much they wished they could help when they don't mean it? It feels like that every time I walk into a room. And sometimes I can hear the people tell each other that they want me to leave.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
I once walked into a classroom at my school with a black eye and red wrists. I guess, if I was any other person, someone would have said something. Someone would have told an administrator that I was self-destructive. Then again, even if they had done that they would have been wrong. That was the first week it had started. It wasn't my fault I forgot long sleeves. And it wasn't my fault my wrists had cuts and my face was bruised. I didn't start doing it to myself until a year after that incident. And I never slipped up on not wearing long sleeves again.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
Have you ever turned your shower to the hottest temperature possible and stood there until you're skin went numb, waiting to see if it would ever get hotter? Waiting to see if you're skin could melt off? Has all of you're cut up and bruised skin turned bright red from the heat? If only I could count the amount of times that's happened in the last week.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
My mother used to tell me, "Ryan, you can and will become just as successful as your father." And I guess, that might have been true if she never left. I was never told about her leaving, I found out when my dad started drinking more. Or, I guess you could say that after a year of not seeing or hearing from her I knew she wasn't coming back. Then again, I guess right now I am about as successful as my drunk ass dad.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
Do you remember being taught how to ride a bike? Or being taught how to swim in a pond with your family? Going on small vacations to bond and spend time together. Did your perfect fucking family teach you how to read? How to drive your expensive ass car? How to work your god damned television? Did they tell you that you would always be better than everyone else around you? Because I know you act like it. And I know they did. They put an interest into your life, where I was left completely alone. I was never taught how to do anything. I simply adapted, learning what I had to.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
You were always so well liked. Everyone who ever met you instantly loved you. You always came off as that happy go lucky kid. Just so easy to get along with. I was one of the only people you told your problems to. I was the only one who could see through the smiles and know when you were hurting. And yet, even after I gave you my mind, body, and soul, you still just shrugged and carried on. Because you knew, you knew that even though you would be the only one I would ever love, that you would always find someone else. You always knew.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
Have you ever gotten beat up by your own father? Has he slammed you against the wall and beat you black and blue? Did he grab a knife one day and start screaming that it was all your fault that your mother left? Did he cut into your tiny, ten-year-old wrist? I know you haven't. Because if you knew how much it hurt, you would tell me. You always told me. And you never fucking asked me anything.
So why am I standing on this fucking ledge?
You've got a dirty mouth and a filthy mind. I once tried to count the amount of lies you told me in one day. I stopped when I made it to fifty. Let's face it, you never told me the truth when it mattered. I was always just a toy, and you've seemed to grow tired of me. Sometimes I wonder why I've ever bothered to listen to you. Why I tried so hard to matter in your life as much as you did in mine. But you never did.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
How many friends have you talked to today? How many people have given you special treatment? How many girls have flocked to you? How many have asked for your number? How many people have you made laugh? When was the last night you spent alone? If you were to see me, would you even remember my fucking name? Did you ever notice that you stole my only friend? Spencer and I used to be close, we used to spend so much time together. So what did you do when my attention was on someone other than you? You took all of his attention. You made up lies to make me seem like I was going to destroy everyone. You stranded me on an island in the middle of nowhere, without a fucking pistol to kill myself with.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
You were so selfish. So perfect and selfish. I gave you everything, everything I had. And I know it wasn't much. Yet you took it, you took it all. And then you burned it down. How did it feel to have my life in the palm of your hands? You know I've threatened this before. You and Spencer both new. And yet, you seemed to forget when I started going under. Maybe I wouldn't be up here if you knew just how bad it was. But that's just a lie. Because you wouldn't notice. You would be to busy trying to suck more attention back to you. To get more and more and more. Because you're a selfish prick. Why the hell do I love you?
And why am I standing on this ledge?
Have you ever felt like you were drowning? That the water was slowly encasing you. Suffocating you. All you can do is try to get out. Try to pull yourself out of the water. But you can't. You're being covered, and you can't get out. That's how I feel now. Like I'm drowning. Even when I'm no where near water.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
You're love is like a fucking knife. The more I get, the more it hurts. The sharper it is. The more blood pours out of me. I used to cry myself to sleep when I thought of you. When I remembered all the things that you promised. When I remembered all those happy moments that we had. I know you wanted a perfect relationship. I know it was all my fault. I was destroying your perfection when I destroyed myself.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
Have you ever had a panic attack? I'm guessing you haven't. So I'll tell you what it feels like. It feels like you can't breath. You can't think. You feel anxious. Lost. You're heart starts pounding, and you can't do anything. It feels like you're having a heart attack. And you can't do anything. You can't do anything but wait for it to pass. How many times do you think I've had panic attacks because of you? Because I'm sure that it's more than you would think.
So why am I standing on this ledge?
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe all of this is just me overreacting. But I find that hard to believe when you haven't said a word to me in the longest of times. When it feels like Spencer's forgotten who I am. When my own family doesn't want me. When I'm left alone. In the cold and rain. Did you know that I was kicked out last week? Probably not. I don't know how you would have been able to know. I miss you. That night, when you told me that you never wanted to see me again, it broke me. Destroyed me. You were the one who put this thought back in my head. And now I can't stop myself. Because a life without you isn't worth living.
So don't you dare ask me why I'm jumping off the ledge.
Because I know you know all the reasons why I'm falling right now.
Would you believe me if I told you that this is the closest to feeling alive I've been in months?
God, I'm sorry for doing this. If you still love me. I'm so fucking sorry.
I love you Brendon.
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