Keep the Faith
Whisper Me a Prayer
I whispered a prayer for you today. A few words, strung together in a quiet sentence, hands pressed together, nothing special. I just needed to say something, you crossed my mind that many times, so asked the angels to watch over you. Then I wondered if that was even possible – do angels look over other angels? Why would they waste their time looking after one of their own?
And then I wondered if you would even care.
You always refused to acknowledge my faith. You said God was a coward.
I say you’re the coward.
“Just fuck off, would you?”
“Why? So you can wallow in self pity again? I won’t let you, I won’t let you. Not again, after everything everyone’s done. Are you going to just let them down?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
In a typical fight-or-flee situation, you would always flee. You’d flee a thousand times over before facing what really caused you grief, pain, anguish.
I like the word anguish. Even saying it makes me feel hollow inside. Anguish anguish anguish. See? I’m still here – I’m just empty. But however hollow or incomplete, I’d never felt more whole in my life.
”Kiss me?”
“No.”
“Kiss me.”
“No!”
“… please?”
You did that to me. I’d always perceived myself as incapable of true emotions, part of that I put down to the inability to attach myself to anything. I attached to you. The drug I wouldn’t deny myself.
I could feel my soul surrendering. Once or twice I even thought about running away and leaving everything behind. One kiss. That’s all it took. You lingered on me for an eternity, for so long that I couldn’t wash away the dirt and sin scorching my lips. The same lips that swore never to lose faith. The same lips that formed sweet nothings and composed “I love you”s. I want to hold your hand. Just to feel it. Just to feel your there. Call me immature again – I don’t care. I need to know that you’re around. You’re pulse beating softly through your calloused fingertips was a reminder of how close we really are.
Oh, the innocence, the mercy that Lord had upon us. He’s punishing us now though. My whispers are left unanswered. My mind is swarming with anticipation. We’re almost there. Almost.
“How long?”
“How long since what?”
“How long has it been since you told me you loved me.”
“I don’t know, Gerard, how long?”
“Too long.”
And you said I needed reassurance. You were the most insecure fucker I ever knew. But I loved you for it. You were good at hiding it.
I think you enjoyed it more than you realise. And I think you enjoyed being it aswell. Screaming fans. Adoring peers. You were gone beyond reprieve, but there was no denying the hurt that would ensue. I was the only one who saw it.
13 cigarettes. 2 bourbons, a few flirty smiles. Roaring crowds. Topless girls. You. Me. And the rest of the world.
I’ll whisper a prayer for you today. And tomorrow. And the rest of my shallow life, until you find what you lost.
Yourself.
And then I wondered if you would even care.
You always refused to acknowledge my faith. You said God was a coward.
I say you’re the coward.
“Just fuck off, would you?”
“Why? So you can wallow in self pity again? I won’t let you, I won’t let you. Not again, after everything everyone’s done. Are you going to just let them down?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
In a typical fight-or-flee situation, you would always flee. You’d flee a thousand times over before facing what really caused you grief, pain, anguish.
I like the word anguish. Even saying it makes me feel hollow inside. Anguish anguish anguish. See? I’m still here – I’m just empty. But however hollow or incomplete, I’d never felt more whole in my life.
”Kiss me?”
“No.”
“Kiss me.”
“No!”
“… please?”
You did that to me. I’d always perceived myself as incapable of true emotions, part of that I put down to the inability to attach myself to anything. I attached to you. The drug I wouldn’t deny myself.
I could feel my soul surrendering. Once or twice I even thought about running away and leaving everything behind. One kiss. That’s all it took. You lingered on me for an eternity, for so long that I couldn’t wash away the dirt and sin scorching my lips. The same lips that swore never to lose faith. The same lips that formed sweet nothings and composed “I love you”s. I want to hold your hand. Just to feel it. Just to feel your there. Call me immature again – I don’t care. I need to know that you’re around. You’re pulse beating softly through your calloused fingertips was a reminder of how close we really are.
Oh, the innocence, the mercy that Lord had upon us. He’s punishing us now though. My whispers are left unanswered. My mind is swarming with anticipation. We’re almost there. Almost.
“How long?”
“How long since what?”
“How long has it been since you told me you loved me.”
“I don’t know, Gerard, how long?”
“Too long.”
And you said I needed reassurance. You were the most insecure fucker I ever knew. But I loved you for it. You were good at hiding it.
I think you enjoyed it more than you realise. And I think you enjoyed being it aswell. Screaming fans. Adoring peers. You were gone beyond reprieve, but there was no denying the hurt that would ensue. I was the only one who saw it.
13 cigarettes. 2 bourbons, a few flirty smiles. Roaring crowds. Topless girls. You. Me. And the rest of the world.
I’ll whisper a prayer for you today. And tomorrow. And the rest of my shallow life, until you find what you lost.
Yourself.