Dd/lb Ferard story's.

Do Not Stand At My Grave

Hey.. So iv'e lost someone I loved and it made me really fucking sad so i'm just gonna write some sad crap so i can try to make myself feel a little fucking better. The last bit isn't mine. It's a poem written by Elizabeth Frye. also fuck proper writing because i'm too sad to edit this fucking shit.

Fuck~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~Gerard's Pov~

I lost him. He's gone. He's not coming back. I keep telling myself this but the more I say it the more it seems unreal.

All I hear is people grieving his death. It seems like a lie. They're all lying to me. saying he's gone. Saying the car accident actually happened. That is wasn't just a dream. That it wasn't just a nightmare loud enough to break my heart.

My heart. Already so torn from the pain we went through. Together, we survived for so long until the day he decided to take a road trip. But the day had a different outcome in mind. It was cold and icy. The streets were not safe. the car slid. It all seemed so so unreal. like a nightmare, waiting, watching for the perfect moment to attack. Then it happened. His lifeless body found by the officers that a witness called when she saw the car.

But I know he's not gone. Only waiting for the time when I will be able to leave with him. I'll take his hand once more.

I will not stand at his grave a weep; He is not there. He does not sleep.

He is a thousand winds that blow.

He is the sunlight on the ripened grain.

He is the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

He is the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

He is the soft stars at night.

I will not stand at his grave and cry; He is not there. He did not die.

~