Playing With Puppets
Chapter Four
It’s awkward, when the guys come over, just for a drink, just for a chat about life… the new album… things like that, things that are so normal, they almost make me forget.
Almost.
They look at me, and it feels like they can see though my t-shirt and for a moment I wish I’d worn something looser… but it’s just me being stupid, they can’t see the bruises, the burns, I hide them too well.
The crimson will keep,
His secrets you weep,
Poison and pain,
He’s going insane,
He cries, fades to black,
He’s not coming back,
Broken dreams on this floor,
A shadow at the door,
The blade makes him weep,
The crimson you reap,
His poison and pain,
He died here, today.
I dream about my death, did you know that, Syn?
Sometimes, when I’m broken, when I’m bleeding, I cry and I wonder whether or not this is how I’m going to die.
Will they find my body, sprawled across some floor, too broken or will I be at the bottom of the stair and you’ll just say that I tripped and fell.
Sometimes, I dream about suicide too.
I wonder whether or not it would be easier, to save you the job and just to hang myself… you’ve told me too before, but I never listen, do I.
Maybe I should, maybe it would be easier if I just curled up and died in a hole somewhere.
If I did, would you care, Syn? Would you care?
Cut-up wrists,
Made-up face.
Broken-winged angel,
Twisted smile out of place.
Skin too pale,
Mind too dark,
Typically fallen,
Finding peace with the lark.
Spring comes and I’m still here.
Winter’s over and I’m glad because I really hate it… it’s always too cold, always too depressing, bad things happen in winter, bad things.
Spring’s the dawn of new things, a new beginning… maybe now we can turn the hourglass over and start again.
Maybe this will be a new start, a new beginning, for us.
Oh god, I hope it is.
I pray to god that it brings back the you I thought I lost forever.
Please, please come home, Bri. I don’t care if you hit me, I don’t care if you hate what I became after you changed.
I just don’t like how you changed, because you’re not the Brian Haner I fell in love with, don’t get me wrong, I still love you more than the world; I wouldn’t be here otherwise, but please, I just want you back… for spring… just in time for spring…
Almost.
They look at me, and it feels like they can see though my t-shirt and for a moment I wish I’d worn something looser… but it’s just me being stupid, they can’t see the bruises, the burns, I hide them too well.
The crimson will keep,
His secrets you weep,
Poison and pain,
He’s going insane,
He cries, fades to black,
He’s not coming back,
Broken dreams on this floor,
A shadow at the door,
The blade makes him weep,
The crimson you reap,
His poison and pain,
He died here, today.
I dream about my death, did you know that, Syn?
Sometimes, when I’m broken, when I’m bleeding, I cry and I wonder whether or not this is how I’m going to die.
Will they find my body, sprawled across some floor, too broken or will I be at the bottom of the stair and you’ll just say that I tripped and fell.
Sometimes, I dream about suicide too.
I wonder whether or not it would be easier, to save you the job and just to hang myself… you’ve told me too before, but I never listen, do I.
Maybe I should, maybe it would be easier if I just curled up and died in a hole somewhere.
If I did, would you care, Syn? Would you care?
Cut-up wrists,
Made-up face.
Broken-winged angel,
Twisted smile out of place.
Skin too pale,
Mind too dark,
Typically fallen,
Finding peace with the lark.
Spring comes and I’m still here.
Winter’s over and I’m glad because I really hate it… it’s always too cold, always too depressing, bad things happen in winter, bad things.
Spring’s the dawn of new things, a new beginning… maybe now we can turn the hourglass over and start again.
Maybe this will be a new start, a new beginning, for us.
Oh god, I hope it is.
I pray to god that it brings back the you I thought I lost forever.
Please, please come home, Bri. I don’t care if you hit me, I don’t care if you hate what I became after you changed.
I just don’t like how you changed, because you’re not the Brian Haner I fell in love with, don’t get me wrong, I still love you more than the world; I wouldn’t be here otherwise, but please, I just want you back… for spring… just in time for spring…