.
.
I want to kill you.
.
.
d r e a m e r
He doesn't
know why it
happened, he
just k n o w s
that it did.
.
he knew that he would
forgive his brother in
a heart b e a t if he just
said ("I'm sorry.") one
word, that was all
it took. because when
he cries himself to sleep
and w h i s p e r s ("sorrysorry
sorrysorrysorry") under his
breath when he can't
hear p r o p e r l y
then what is a broken, empty
suit of armor to say?
he never said it to his
face because he k n e w that
al would forgive him
s t r a i g h t a w a y and he
couldn't stand that.
never once was those
words uttered. he sat in
his room and selfishly
hated h i m s e l f for doing
this to his only brother
his only f l e s h and
blood.
("Close the lights, Al.")
.
sinking down to the
bottom, it s e e m s like
theworld stops for a moment
when he screams
and there is no one to
h e a r him. flashing lights
and pent up energy that
swirl in c o l o r s
red blood that dance with
the markings on the
floor, done by s t a i n e d
hands and hearts.
he r e a c h e s out for him
but his fingers are so far
away and it seems like
something is tearing him
apart at the seams
("ALPHONSE!")
but he doesn't waver
and the floor s l o w l y is
painted the color of
life. but n o t the life that
he was aiming for. not
the life that s l i p p e d through
his fingers like the blood,
spilled like ink,
on the cold s t o n e floor.
("Give...him..b-ba..aack...")
.
(He's locked up in the darkest
corner of his mind.)
hot days and long hair
and metal. t w i s t e d sheets and
dark rooms and e n d l e s s
moments of silence. that is
what makes up his life, ed
thinks. blue eyes and apples
and d i l a p i d a t e d houses
broken arms and red.
where he can stay in
the d a r k n e s s, ed is sure
("I'm sorry.")
that in there
he knows himself. eyes
golden, d u l l, lit by the
fever of i n s a n i t y that
she left on him when
she went to the stars.
("You're sick, brother. Rest.")
no more resting.
he was sick of resting and
waiting and n o t doing any
thing at all. while they
stare at him with wonder
in their eyes and s t a r s that
light their way, he stays in
his comfortable d a r k n e s s
and doesn't say a single word.
("I'm not sick, Al. I'm
just a little off today.")
because he doesn't b e l i e v e
a single thing that
his own mouth says.
.
("If you're sure...")
.
tbc.