Let Us Believe

Every single time a starburst of red was reflected in your pupils, I could see the lingering question floating in between the tangling of bloodshot-red capillaries. Every time a scarlet tulip blossomed in your celluloid skin, I could see the fear eroding the tired membrane that covered your eyeballs. “Will we make it?”

For K., and the faith ripping our chests wide open.

This never happened, the plot was formed in my too, too sick head. Disclaimer: I don't own Frank Iero nor Gerard Way. Lyrics belonging to The Misfits.