Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
Don't waste your feelings [Music and Words]
3 reviewsMikey's in a mental hospital. He doesn't feel anything anymore and if there's one thing he's learned it's that you should never trust love.
1Insightful
Hello there (: This is my entry to CosmicZombie's Music and Words... Hope I'm not too late already. Anyway, the song this was inspired by is LostAlone - Blood Is Sharp and it's a fucking amazing song, I just realized. I don't really know if this relates to the song very well, but... yeah. This is what I found from my head when I started writing this.
Hope you enjoy (:
Don’t Waste Your Feelings
It was a narrow room he was staying in; the corners were full of shadows and ugly shades and if you woke up in the middle of the night and just imagined they looked like they would break down and bury you under their hopeless fragments. There was a small window on one wall, giving a view to a big forest. The ceiling hung low, or maybe the floor was just built high, he didn’t know, but it was a terrible room nonetheless.
Mikey was lying on the uncomfortable bed and counting his fingers. One, two, three, five… Six, eight, nine, ten… He was satisfied to notice that both his ring fingers, numbers four and seven, were still gone. He didn’t really know what he would do if one day, when he counted his fingers, they’d be back; mocking him with the silent proof of loneliness he was damned to endure for the rest of his life. He figured he’d probably find a way to cut them off again, maybe with those little scissors that ornamented the paper as you cut it, the ones Mikey had taken from his brother’s pocket when he had last visited.
Mikey sighed and rolled out of bed, dropping himself on the floor like a panther, feet and malformed hands on the ground. He stood up and walked to the window, trying to see if the forest was any different from the last time he had seen it. It wasn’t. Some day, Mikey thought, it will be. And then I’m free.
In a way, Mikey related to the forest. They had so much in common; they were both so scary but at the same time so scared of themselves that they didn’t know how to act around anyone, anything. They were both dark and uncharted, and, even though Mikey would never admit it, even to himself, they were both very, very lonely.
This night, the moon was just a thin scar of white in the pitch black sky. Like a Cheshire Cat’s grin, Mikey mused to himself and almost smiled at the thought. He fixed his gaze above the moon, above the sky, and searched for something, something…
On a night like this he often let his mind wander to the dangerous depths of his subconscious. He couldn’t help it; he was just too much reminded of everything to not to. This time his thoughts led him to, not surprisingly, to her.
She had been beautiful, so very beautiful. Her hair, her eyes, her laughter and the way she said his name; everything. They had shared everything, too, all the secrets and all the cd’s, even all the coffee and all the comics. But, most importantly, they had shared a heart.
Mikey still couldn’t believe it had happened. One day they just had met and become friends; then on the other they had kissed in her room, carefully and nervously in the dark. He could still remember it clearly, his hand on her back and hers in his hair, the way their lips had trembled and how she had tasted sweet, something like raspberry and vanilla combined but something much, much better.
They had started going out, then. Mikey would wait for her beside her locker and they would sit together at lunch. On weekends they would go to the park, or, if it was sunny, cuddle in her room and watch movies all day. They would kiss and hug and talk and, eventually, Mikey had found himself in love with her.
It had been the best thing he had ever experienced; he couldn’t even compare it to anything, not really, because there wasn’t anything like that, he was certain of it. He had thought nothing could be better but he had been wrong. When Mikey had told her he loved her, and she had said the exact same phrase back to him, he had, faintly, thought he could explode from happiness, like a big balloon floating high in the sky. Some years after that they had moved together and engaged; the wedding had been meant to be held in October, at Halloween.
It just hadn’t occurred to Mikey that when you exploded, you got broken, too.
It had been a normal day, like any other in their wonderfully mundane life. Mikey had come home from work and called his greetings to her. When she hadn’t answered like she usually would, he had wandered farther in the house to see if she was sleeping, or showering, or something. Then he had walked in the kitchen.
Nothing in the world could have prepared him for it, ever. All he remembered was blood and her eyes and the way her wedding ring was gone because the whole finger was gone. He had shouted for her, shouted for her to come back, to not leave him like this, while shaking her limp body by the shoulders and trying to make her move, breathe, exist again, but nothing had happened.
He hadn’t been able to call anyone; he had hunched up in the corner of the room, focusing on her eyes. They had been wide, too wide, as if she had been shocked just before… They hadn’t glimmered like they usually would have and there was something cold soaking the warm look in them. They were still beautiful.
That night, Gerard had called him, asking if he wanted to see the newest zombie film the next weekend; they could all go, all four of them. Mikey had told him the two of them couldn’t possibly make it. Why, his brother had asked. She’s dead, Mikey had explained. That’s why.
After that, he didn’t really remember much; he was pretty sure there had been a funeral instead of a wedding, yes, and Gerard had sung. There had been the police and a lot of staying at Gerard’s. There had been a knife and then his ring fingers hadn’t been there and then there had been a therapist and then he, somehow, had moved out of their flat and ended up here.
Some days he didn’t remember why he was there, some days he just wanted out. Some days his brother would come and tell him he was going to be okay and Mikey never believed him. Everyday Mr. I-Have-A-Very-Impressive-Beard would come in and check on him, talk about random things and how he should start accepting it, how that would make him better. Mikey never believed him, either. How could he possibly do that when all it caused was unbearable pain? He would rather feel nothing at all.
He stopped searching the sky with his eyes; it was no use anyway. Mikey knew from experience that she wouldn’t be there, she never was. He turned away from the window and kneed on the floor to reach under his bed. He felt around for a while and then his hand met the scissors; he closed ten minus two fingers around them and pulled them out.
Mikey sat with his back against the bed and toyed with the object in his hands. The edges weren’t very sharp but he figured he could probably draw out blood if he pressed hard enough. He didn’t, though; he didn’t mind feeling nothing, not really. He was almost used to it now, after those six months he had been there.
Six months… He couldn’t believe it had already been that long. Maybe he should start getting out of his room more often.
Although, Mikey thought, bemusedly, why bother. It’s not going to be any different. She still won’t be there.
With that, he pushed the memories away and continued to play with the scissors in his hands.
And I'm sorry the ending sucks... My mind went completely blank but I had to get this finished, so. Thanks for reading, though (:
Hope you enjoy (:
Don’t Waste Your Feelings
It was a narrow room he was staying in; the corners were full of shadows and ugly shades and if you woke up in the middle of the night and just imagined they looked like they would break down and bury you under their hopeless fragments. There was a small window on one wall, giving a view to a big forest. The ceiling hung low, or maybe the floor was just built high, he didn’t know, but it was a terrible room nonetheless.
Mikey was lying on the uncomfortable bed and counting his fingers. One, two, three, five… Six, eight, nine, ten… He was satisfied to notice that both his ring fingers, numbers four and seven, were still gone. He didn’t really know what he would do if one day, when he counted his fingers, they’d be back; mocking him with the silent proof of loneliness he was damned to endure for the rest of his life. He figured he’d probably find a way to cut them off again, maybe with those little scissors that ornamented the paper as you cut it, the ones Mikey had taken from his brother’s pocket when he had last visited.
Mikey sighed and rolled out of bed, dropping himself on the floor like a panther, feet and malformed hands on the ground. He stood up and walked to the window, trying to see if the forest was any different from the last time he had seen it. It wasn’t. Some day, Mikey thought, it will be. And then I’m free.
In a way, Mikey related to the forest. They had so much in common; they were both so scary but at the same time so scared of themselves that they didn’t know how to act around anyone, anything. They were both dark and uncharted, and, even though Mikey would never admit it, even to himself, they were both very, very lonely.
This night, the moon was just a thin scar of white in the pitch black sky. Like a Cheshire Cat’s grin, Mikey mused to himself and almost smiled at the thought. He fixed his gaze above the moon, above the sky, and searched for something, something…
On a night like this he often let his mind wander to the dangerous depths of his subconscious. He couldn’t help it; he was just too much reminded of everything to not to. This time his thoughts led him to, not surprisingly, to her.
She had been beautiful, so very beautiful. Her hair, her eyes, her laughter and the way she said his name; everything. They had shared everything, too, all the secrets and all the cd’s, even all the coffee and all the comics. But, most importantly, they had shared a heart.
Mikey still couldn’t believe it had happened. One day they just had met and become friends; then on the other they had kissed in her room, carefully and nervously in the dark. He could still remember it clearly, his hand on her back and hers in his hair, the way their lips had trembled and how she had tasted sweet, something like raspberry and vanilla combined but something much, much better.
They had started going out, then. Mikey would wait for her beside her locker and they would sit together at lunch. On weekends they would go to the park, or, if it was sunny, cuddle in her room and watch movies all day. They would kiss and hug and talk and, eventually, Mikey had found himself in love with her.
It had been the best thing he had ever experienced; he couldn’t even compare it to anything, not really, because there wasn’t anything like that, he was certain of it. He had thought nothing could be better but he had been wrong. When Mikey had told her he loved her, and she had said the exact same phrase back to him, he had, faintly, thought he could explode from happiness, like a big balloon floating high in the sky. Some years after that they had moved together and engaged; the wedding had been meant to be held in October, at Halloween.
It just hadn’t occurred to Mikey that when you exploded, you got broken, too.
It had been a normal day, like any other in their wonderfully mundane life. Mikey had come home from work and called his greetings to her. When she hadn’t answered like she usually would, he had wandered farther in the house to see if she was sleeping, or showering, or something. Then he had walked in the kitchen.
Nothing in the world could have prepared him for it, ever. All he remembered was blood and her eyes and the way her wedding ring was gone because the whole finger was gone. He had shouted for her, shouted for her to come back, to not leave him like this, while shaking her limp body by the shoulders and trying to make her move, breathe, exist again, but nothing had happened.
He hadn’t been able to call anyone; he had hunched up in the corner of the room, focusing on her eyes. They had been wide, too wide, as if she had been shocked just before… They hadn’t glimmered like they usually would have and there was something cold soaking the warm look in them. They were still beautiful.
That night, Gerard had called him, asking if he wanted to see the newest zombie film the next weekend; they could all go, all four of them. Mikey had told him the two of them couldn’t possibly make it. Why, his brother had asked. She’s dead, Mikey had explained. That’s why.
After that, he didn’t really remember much; he was pretty sure there had been a funeral instead of a wedding, yes, and Gerard had sung. There had been the police and a lot of staying at Gerard’s. There had been a knife and then his ring fingers hadn’t been there and then there had been a therapist and then he, somehow, had moved out of their flat and ended up here.
Some days he didn’t remember why he was there, some days he just wanted out. Some days his brother would come and tell him he was going to be okay and Mikey never believed him. Everyday Mr. I-Have-A-Very-Impressive-Beard would come in and check on him, talk about random things and how he should start accepting it, how that would make him better. Mikey never believed him, either. How could he possibly do that when all it caused was unbearable pain? He would rather feel nothing at all.
He stopped searching the sky with his eyes; it was no use anyway. Mikey knew from experience that she wouldn’t be there, she never was. He turned away from the window and kneed on the floor to reach under his bed. He felt around for a while and then his hand met the scissors; he closed ten minus two fingers around them and pulled them out.
Mikey sat with his back against the bed and toyed with the object in his hands. The edges weren’t very sharp but he figured he could probably draw out blood if he pressed hard enough. He didn’t, though; he didn’t mind feeling nothing, not really. He was almost used to it now, after those six months he had been there.
Six months… He couldn’t believe it had already been that long. Maybe he should start getting out of his room more often.
Although, Mikey thought, bemusedly, why bother. It’s not going to be any different. She still won’t be there.
With that, he pushed the memories away and continued to play with the scissors in his hands.
And I'm sorry the ending sucks... My mind went completely blank but I had to get this finished, so. Thanks for reading, though (:
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