Synacky~ Needles and pins

looks like that's all

Brian's POV

These days are gone now, when you kissed my neck after every show we played.

How your hot tongue played with my skin, your pretty whisperers of promises that was gonna be fulfilled. 

Your smile when you looked me in the eye, the smile that spoke of all the emotions you had for me.

Your feelings for me was worth more than anything in the world. Except from our music. Unfortunately..

These days are gone now, when I would drink myself tipsy and come into your room late at night, knowing I wanted something dirty,
you was always willingly allowing me to do everything I wanted. Because you also shared my the burning flame that lives inside my heart. 
The flame that’s still alive. The love I had for you never died. But you can’t know about that now. It’s too late.

These days are gone now, but I still remember when you held me tight to your chest. The way you trembled when you cried. 
Our fighting got the best of me and I must have hurt you badly, because your green, open eyes, were filled with painful tears.
They put needles through my heart, murdered my conscience, drown my anger and made me suffer even more than I ever thought was possible. 
 How this keept repeating itself, how I hated my guts to the point of self destruction. This couldn’t go on, and you knew it.

These days are gone now, and no one ever told me that I would be suffering from the same temptation every day at work.
Every time we played a show, went to a bar, went shopping, slept in our bunks..  In separate bunks. Those damn bunks. Fuck them.

These days are gone now, when we hid behind every corner, not wanting to be caught.
Cause we all knew what was gonna happen if the press saw us. If this got out, it would be the end of our lives. Our careers.
How I loathed interviews. It kept me from acting normal around you, feeling your lips against mine and then…

These days are gone now, when we shared our thoguhts, our desires, our future plans. The roses I gave you on our anniversary. 
Those are all symbols of our crash. Our final fucking fight, were we both knew there wasn’t any way out then splitting up.

How you cried. Oh how you kept crying to leave you alone. Get the fuck out. Not touch you. 
Not talking to you. Not getting closer to you. All this broke the last piece of my glassheart.
Now all the pieces are shattered on that hotel room floor. I never went back to pick them up. 
I left with my cigarette in my mouth. My eyes dry because I couldn’t cry. 
I was uncapable of showing any other emotion than total numbness.

These days are gone now. But do you know what? I never runned away, I stayed tuned. I stayed here, on the tip of my toes. 
Walking on glass every day, cause those pieces that still hang on form that night, they’re stuck inside the sole of my foot. 
They tears the skin apart every time I walk. Towards you. Seeing these mask that you wear, not showing me what you really think about all this.  
We never talked about this but, I’m forever yours faithfully.They say tears help clear your skin,
which must be why your pale perfect face still look like you did when you were 22. You’re still that beautiful to me.

These days are gone now, so I wonder, why don’t you hate me? 
Show me how much I truly hurt you? Is it to make me even more desperate to find out? 
Think about it, is it to torture me? Please give me an answer, cause I don’t think I can do this so much longer.
I may loose it and kiss you, and that’s gonna ruin us forever. Fuck.

These days are gone now, when young Californian dudes wore swim trunks and carried a surfboard over their shoulders, and the look was completed with a loving smile all over their faces.
When their boyfriends name was Zacky Vengeance, a reckless son of a bitch that turned this particular Californian dude on to no end.
He played games with his mind to make him crazy, to fall madly unresponsively in love with this rebel. Not regretting a second of it. 
I guess I dreamed that I would say all this on our wedding day, but that’s past now.

These days are gone now, and I’m still standing here with my guitar in my hands, but feeling empty handed.
I’m standing on my edge of the scene, watching our lead singer do his job. Then looking past him, seeing you. 
Seeing your concentration, how you frown your pretty forehead into small wrinkles. Oh you are so good damn cute. 
Our music is pulsing through mine and yours fingers. I need to tell you that this is the feeling that keeps me alive. 
The reason why I haven’t given in yet, seeing you haven’t become too much quite yet. Not yet.

So please forgive me when I walk over to you after the show, take you into my arms and kiss your soft pink lips with all the love that I have left. 
I can’t go on like this, let me at least say sorry. I hurt you so bad, please… forgive me.

Maybe our days aren’t gone yet?

Tell me.