I woke up, coughing,
Clearing my lungs out.
I was asleep on that couch.
In that place
that I didn't know.
Everyone was gone now.
I sat up, yawned,
And took one last smoke of
My "sugar".
It was the last bit too,
Fuck.
Back at home,
I took a hot shower.
The steam felt so nice on my back,
And having the hot water pour down it
Felt so
Refreshing.
It stung when it hit my face,
But I grew used to it.
For the remaining time,
I stared at the scar on my wrist.
After I got out,
I found a picture of Frankie and I.
Our arms were around each other, our cheeks against one another,
Smiling.
And then I found another one.
I took it off the wall.
It was really
A nostalgic picture.
Picturesque too.
But in all, it was spectacular.
It was a picture of us kissing.
There just something so joyful to the picture.
We were both smiling in it.
I think it was a selfie he took.
He always did those things
Because he was the more outgoing one
Out of the two of us.
I actually remember the day he hung it,
"Gerard, look.
Look at this picture I took."
"Is that a fucking selfie of us kissing?"
"Yes, but,
But look at how nice the picture is."
He even had it framed in white,
With a gold embroider.
It was his favorite.
It took him a long time to stop admiring it right after he woke up
In the morning.
I still see him gaze at it whenever he passes it.
A water drop fell from my hair,
And fell onto the glass.
I wiped it off,
And put it back.
It also reminded me that
I hadn't painted in a while.
when it hit my face,
But I grew used to it.
For the remaining time,
I stared at the scar on my wrist.
After I got out,
I found a picture of Frankie and I.
Our arms were around each other, our cheeks against one another,
Smiling.
And then I found another one.
I took it off the wall.
It was really
A nostalgic picture.
Picturesque too.
But in all, it was spectacular.
It was a picture of us kissing.
There just something so joyful to the picture.
We were both smiling in it.
I think it was a selfie he took.
He always did those things
Because he was the more outgoing one
Out of the two of us.
I actually remember the day he hung it,
"Gerard, look.
Look at this picture I took."
"Is that a fucking selfie of us kissing?"
"Yes, but,
But look at how nice the picture is."
He even had it framed in white,
With a gold embroider.
It was his favorite.
It took him a long time to stop admiring it right after he woke up
In the morning.
I still see him gaze at it whenever he passes it.
A water drop fell from my hair,
And dripped into the glass.
I wiped it off,
And put it back.
It also reminded me that
I hadn't painted in a while.
YOU ARE READING
Sanity (Frerard)
Fanfiction"And what I felt was more than thumping. I felt his love for me. and I think he loves me with his soul too." .*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*. •Warning: Triggers • Drug Use • Soft Sexual Content • .*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.
