Liar Liar

If we cut out the bad then we'd have nothing left

My life has been filled with bad.
Bad people.
Bad thoughts.
Bad days.

Like that day at the club.
Their concert.
Another bad day in a lifetime of pain.
But this one was different.

I sat on a bar stool watching My Chemical Romance's performance.
Gerard told me to join the mosh pit.
But I couldn't.
There were too many people.

I was scared of the intimacy.
Skin touching skin. People surrounding you on all sides.
I was scared of the adrenaline.
The passion.

"Hey there, Honey," a voice whispered drunkenly into my ear.

I hate honey.
The sticky sweetness of it. The slimy texture.
Sickening.

I shuddered as his words left his mouth.

"What's the matter, Honey?" the man slurred. "Aren't you having fun?"

When I didn't respond he pulled my face closer to him. His hands were harsh and dirty.
My stomach flipped when I caught the nauseating smell on his breath.
Alcohol and gasoline.

His hand slid behind my neck as he impatiently latched his lips onto mine.
I froze.
My mind shut down.
I didn't hear the music stop.

The man, unhappy with my lack of response, pushed me away.

"What's wrong with you, Honey? You dead or something?"

Dead. Yes.
I was like a doll.
A china doll.
Fragile and empty.

He shoved me backwards. Hard.

I shut my eyes tightly as I fell to the floor.

It wasn't until then that I realized they had stopped playing.
That I heard the shouts.
That I felt the arms surrounding me.

I opened my eyes and saw them.
Gerard. Frank. Ray. Bob. Mikey.

I will always remember that day.
That bad day.
Because that was when it happened.
I fell in love with Frank Iero.

This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun