Tweeks POV.
Sweet love of mine, what are on your wrists? The gashes, the slices, the bloody streaks, so pain filled? What have you done with my love? You are not him. He is gone, you will whisper, and I silently agree. You took him away, regret, sorrow, pain. What is left in the place? A monster. Not my love. Remember? When we laughed? And kissed, and hugged? No, you don't.
For you can feel nothing, now you monster. But. Sadly, I can't find it in myself to hate you. You know why? I will always imagine the human, the love, the heart. The tears fall down our faces, as we embrace. Our last love. The nuce has been heavy for awhile. If my love will not return, if this discrimination is all left, then what is the point? Nothing. That is all. It's not worth it. I hang the ropes from our tree, yes, you see the carvings? Meaningless.
Up we go. Down we fall. We watch the others life flow from their eyes. Going, going...gone. We can be happy, is our last thought. Away with the pain. For you see, I too, am a monster.
The kids who threw rocks, and shouted out "Fags!" We will make them pay. The ones who shunned us because of our love, we will make them pay.