Come Back and Let Me Punch You in the Face
one of one
you promised you’d never leave.
you fucking promised and now look at you, six feet underground, frost growing on your bones and on the suit we buried you in. you fucking idiot, you fucking sick, perverted idiot with your toothy smile and your lack of height and your eccentric taste in clothing. you sicken me.
you left me and you didn’t even say goodbye and goddamnit, your final breath ghosting along the page you’d held tight in your grip was to me. well, mostly to me. you spit out that blurb of i’m sorry, but i can’t do this anymore and then you addressed me, and you told me you loved me, you didn’t want to fuck up our friendship any more than it already was, and you were such a coward and you just had to do this.
you didn’t have to do anything. you fucking idiot.
look at you, for god’s sake. look at me and see what you left behind! look at the fucking mess you left, the tears and the heartache and the fans that’ve been split in half by what you did. look at the sleepless nights our leader’s endured, the nightmares our oldest member’s woken up crying from, the blank stare my best fucking friend has now.
look at me and see the broken, homicidal wreck that i’ve become.
you said you loved me in that one night stand of a suicide note. you said you loved me but you didn’t fucking say it; words written on a page can’t equal words spoken with the voice that i’d found to be a safe haven in the worst times.
you promised not to go anywhere.
you fucking liar.
you’re gone and you’re here, underground in a too expensive casket and a really fancy suit and yuu’s drinking too much at my apartment and kouyou’s been fiddling with a knife for the past hour and yutaka’s just dead. he’s exhausted and he’s been on the phone non-stop and this isn’t fucking fair to him either.
there’s screaming and crying and breakdown’s every hour, on the hour and god, why can’t you just say you’re sorry? come back and say you’re sorry. don’t write it on a fucking empty page.
just– just hold me like you did that one night you thought i was drunk too.
yeah. here’s a secret for you: i wasn’t drunk. not even tipsy. i remembered everything. you didn’t. so fuck you if you thought i didn’t love you too, you asshole. you stupid, idiotic, beautiful man, i loved you too.
so come back. please. come back and let me punch you in the face for doing this to us. to me. come back.
you fucking promised and now look at you, six feet underground, frost growing on your bones and on the suit we buried you in. you fucking idiot, you fucking sick, perverted idiot with your toothy smile and your lack of height and your eccentric taste in clothing. you sicken me.
you left me and you didn’t even say goodbye and goddamnit, your final breath ghosting along the page you’d held tight in your grip was to me. well, mostly to me. you spit out that blurb of i’m sorry, but i can’t do this anymore and then you addressed me, and you told me you loved me, you didn’t want to fuck up our friendship any more than it already was, and you were such a coward and you just had to do this.
you didn’t have to do anything. you fucking idiot.
look at you, for god’s sake. look at me and see what you left behind! look at the fucking mess you left, the tears and the heartache and the fans that’ve been split in half by what you did. look at the sleepless nights our leader’s endured, the nightmares our oldest member’s woken up crying from, the blank stare my best fucking friend has now.
look at me and see the broken, homicidal wreck that i’ve become.
you said you loved me in that one night stand of a suicide note. you said you loved me but you didn’t fucking say it; words written on a page can’t equal words spoken with the voice that i’d found to be a safe haven in the worst times.
you promised not to go anywhere.
you fucking liar.
you’re gone and you’re here, underground in a too expensive casket and a really fancy suit and yuu’s drinking too much at my apartment and kouyou’s been fiddling with a knife for the past hour and yutaka’s just dead. he’s exhausted and he’s been on the phone non-stop and this isn’t fucking fair to him either.
there’s screaming and crying and breakdown’s every hour, on the hour and god, why can’t you just say you’re sorry? come back and say you’re sorry. don’t write it on a fucking empty page.
just– just hold me like you did that one night you thought i was drunk too.
yeah. here’s a secret for you: i wasn’t drunk. not even tipsy. i remembered everything. you didn’t. so fuck you if you thought i didn’t love you too, you asshole. you stupid, idiotic, beautiful man, i loved you too.
so come back. please. come back and let me punch you in the face for doing this to us. to me. come back.