LOSING MY MIND. / kaiser + monroe blitz
Feb 6, 2016 3:30:47 GMT -5
Post by я𝑜𝓈𝑒 on Feb 6, 2016 3:30:47 GMT -5
M O N R O E
are you insane like me? been in pain like me?
bought a hundred bottle of champagne like me?
_____________________________
bought a hundred bottle of champagne like me?
_____________________________
Like. Fire. It scorches down my throat, my amber savior. It is a nightmare, but it is a dream. It will lift me to the blazing heavens, it will make me sublime- but then I've got debts to repay, and it will thrust me smack on the concrete. Just as I think my skull has been crushed to ash, I'll drill right through the ground, straight to flame.
I think perhaps it's where I belong. I've been told I came from there, but I never believed in play pretend places of a twisted fantasy. But I'm starting to believe the rumors they've stitched into the sides of my skull- or maybe that's just the liquor alive in my boiling blood.
Memories of the bruises like paint smeared on my skin resurfaced beneath the pale dusk, and I decided that I want to numb for a night. That's what I've always done, isn't it? Fuck away the pain, chase down nightmarish memories with the tip of a shot glass? Alcohol can't scrub away the blood, can't patch up the bruises- it's no remedy for battle scars, but it's a panacea for pain.
My eyes trace along the curves of their faces. They stop on one I recognize- a Fray boy. I thought they were just legends fabricated by whispers ripping the air, until Scout Fray took her place on stage. I saw the beast dance in her eyes when her lips let loose a growl, and I nearly flinched. She may as well have set a crown upon her head when she shoved the other girl aside- she is a true Fray, by what they say.
I can't recall his name at first, but I know his face, and his voice. "Fuck yeah! You go, Scout!" his words echo sharply in my head. And that is the moment it hits me- Kaiser Fray. I have heard the rumors whispered by trembling lips of he and Scout. They say they are a vicious, ruthless duo, with no regard for human life. They say they have no heartbeat, and I'm not sure I doubt it.
I'm too drunk on the night to care.
I don't need to be so much as tipsy to see that's he's hot, straight up. I don't need to be drunk to approach him and feel something ignite within me. It is not in my heart, for it is steel, not tissue any longer- it is in every part of me but there.
"You're cute," I say, "but I think you'd be cuter if your face was between my legs."
I don't need to be drunk to do that, either.
I think perhaps it's where I belong. I've been told I came from there, but I never believed in play pretend places of a twisted fantasy. But I'm starting to believe the rumors they've stitched into the sides of my skull- or maybe that's just the liquor alive in my boiling blood.
Memories of the bruises like paint smeared on my skin resurfaced beneath the pale dusk, and I decided that I want to numb for a night. That's what I've always done, isn't it? Fuck away the pain, chase down nightmarish memories with the tip of a shot glass? Alcohol can't scrub away the blood, can't patch up the bruises- it's no remedy for battle scars, but it's a panacea for pain.
My eyes trace along the curves of their faces. They stop on one I recognize- a Fray boy. I thought they were just legends fabricated by whispers ripping the air, until Scout Fray took her place on stage. I saw the beast dance in her eyes when her lips let loose a growl, and I nearly flinched. She may as well have set a crown upon her head when she shoved the other girl aside- she is a true Fray, by what they say.
I can't recall his name at first, but I know his face, and his voice. "Fuck yeah! You go, Scout!" his words echo sharply in my head. And that is the moment it hits me- Kaiser Fray. I have heard the rumors whispered by trembling lips of he and Scout. They say they are a vicious, ruthless duo, with no regard for human life. They say they have no heartbeat, and I'm not sure I doubt it.
I'm too drunk on the night to care.
I don't need to be so much as tipsy to see that's he's hot, straight up. I don't need to be drunk to approach him and feel something ignite within me. It is not in my heart, for it is steel, not tissue any longer- it is in every part of me but there.
"You're cute," I say, "but I think you'd be cuter if your face was between my legs."
I don't need to be drunk to do that, either.
_____________________________
just to pour that motherfucker down the drain like me?
would you use your water bill to dry the stain like me?
table by chelsey
just to pour that motherfucker down the drain like me?
would you use your water bill to dry the stain like me?
table by chelsey
