Do You Need a Doctor, Baby?

"A rope is about to snap"

Every heard of that saying? It is my life. My life is a rope, he's at the end holding me up. but now I have a knife and I am cutting through the rope, thread by thread.

I'm a mere shadow.
Or more of a silhouette of myself. Stood near a white background and a light shone onto me.

Why don't you just make me into a puppet? Would that make you happy? If I did everything you asked of me instead of using the sponge like substance found in my skull.

I can think.

Oh the horror.

I was never as stupid as you wished. I could think and that scared you. I could outwit you, I was cunning and sly, you never expected it and I loved that. Guess what Andrew, I had brain cells that worked. I was intelligent, so intelligent.

When you smiled at me, I laughed in your face. When you frowned at me, I smiled.

You say I'm a weird human being. I'm strange, I'm different. You can't understand me and my brain signals. My thinking patterns, my cognitive and innate instincts. Andy, sweetheart, I'm just an outcast. You sing about me in your songs. How I just should be myself, not care for the world and their harsh words.

Right?

Or am I being too much of myself for you? This is the real me. A sadistic little girl. A puppet you hold in your hands. A shadow puppet. I follow you everywhere, you told me too. But I learnt to think again, without you.

I didn't fall to my knees. Andy fell to his knees. The rope he held me on dropped and I was loose, enough, I could reach.

Your knife. My back. My gun. Your head.

Never cry, it's a weakness. It shows how you actually feel emotions. It shows how human you truly are. Dear Andrew, my weakness has left and the proof is on my cheek. You just wipe them away but I shall wear them forever.

But my grip on the rope is tight and the knife has a few more threads. Oh it's so tense! Skimming along the last thread holding me to you, I am free. I am not your puppet, Pinochinno's voice is reigning through my head. There are no strings on me.

Oh, you're scared.

Your blue eyes water up pretty quickly. Your bottom lip trembles, from fear and pain. You look down so your fringe covers most of your face. You don't want to seem weak like I did. An outcast to beat all outcasts.

Andy, you should have known.

When I pressed my lips to yours, there was so much more going on in my mind. The chemicals and the hormones, went riot, every single time. Then it all suddenly stopped.

With a few words.

Apparently they never meant to leave your mouth, but words can hurt. like the knife in my back. You stabbed in there pretty hard and it stuck for a while.

While the rope was tied around me.

Go sing your heart out darling, I'll be on the side of the stage. Watching you. Every movement you make. Every stance you make. Every time you throw your arm in the air and reach out for the crowd.

I'm always just watching.

Waiting to catch your tears. As they run down your face carrying your war paint. You will dissolve. If your war paint vanishes, what will be left of you? The real Andy Biersack, for me to get to know and stab in the back.

When you shake and struggle to breath when you try to talk to me again. When my brain pulses and the signals are sent through my body.

Do you need a doctor baby, you scared?