I'm too tired to be bored
I'm too bored to be tired
And, the silence is so deafening

it's like picking at a sore

After a few days, Roxas had begun to to recover from his overdose that sent him into a frenzy of hallucinations. A member of the staff had given him a notebook shortly after, noting that his parents had said he loved to write. It was the only thing Roxas's parents saw him love. Each day he was given a subject to write on, and each day Axel would pester the blonde wile trying to complete the task he dreaded and yet looked forward to at the same time.

Axel prodded Roxas with his pointer finger, poking at the back of his head.
"Hey Roxylocks, what's this little snippety about?" A snarky laugh escaped those nearly perfect lips, and Roxas scowled back with a middle finger.

"Some bull about my room. I'm supposed to tell what it means to me."

But by then he had just finished up, and to much surprise, Roxas handed Axel the book to read through the day's entry.

'You have got to be fucking kidding me. It was already noon by the time I pried my crusted eyes open to the dim light of the world, which meant that yet again, I had fallen prey to my narcolepsy and would then be called lazy for the rest of the entire day. It was a vicious circle really; no matter how hard I worked or tried my best, if there was one mistake I was branded a failure. But then of course there would be that much more of a reason to prove to everyone that were wrong about me, dead wrong.

If you took a quick look at my room you would probably think "eh, ordinary teenager shit." That's sometimes what goes through my head when I stand up finally and peer around. But delve deeper into the mass, and those true colors that are talked about, they shine nice and bright. Various trinkets are scattered throughout- though each in its own place, never making a mess- and they show the things that catch my interest the most. A bookshelf: one of the most stereotypical items, showing the most diverse selection. Those fantasy stories really get me going, they're places where I can just let my mind wander and live through another being, feel what they feel, see what they see...oh you get the idea.

And the comics...oh the comics you can find. my heroes lie within them. Not just because they're literally branded heroes, but because those individuals know what it's like to sacrifice. They get out there and show their community -and everyone else that lies on the so called bad side- that they are there to fight for us. They go through normal struggles just like we do, and I can't even tell you just how many life lessons I've learned from that. But I'm starting to ramble. Damn thoughts taking over me.

My music is the real deal breaker from reality. It's the only, only thing that can calm me down even in the worst of situations. But i just have to drown out the outside world in order for that to happen. I can escape without even going anywhere, and once I learn a song's meaning I never let that fact go. When everything just feels as if it's crumbling down before me and there's no hope, no support...the music is there for me, letting me know that things really will be alright. Time just has to take its course.

And it does every single day, like a monotonous routine. Get up, stretch, get dressed, brush teeth, and there you go. There is never time for eating when you don't want to eat. It feels like a trap, like you're eating it all and people are watching as you waste it. So why even bother eating more than is needed to survive through the day? the bed gets made, but everyone is already up so efforts go unnoticed. There we go again, with the judgement of me being lazy. At first things seem like a joke. Ha, yeah I'm lazy sometimes. But every single day? No, keep your mouth shut and don't jump to conclusions. I cant do what others can. I'm not you. I am me, and no one else, but no one seems to grasp that fact, really give it a squeeze and let the information seep out.

It gets utterly sickening, the way that I'm not even given a chance to succeed. There is no faith in me, and for someone with an extremely low level of self confidence, I find myself spiraling down, just so far down that there is no escape from the depression. Everything just seems so lackluster now. Why even make an effort when things are just going to turn out the same no matter what method you use? That, that's insanity. Not in its rawest form, but in a form where it tugs at your very heartstrings daunting and watching every move as if to steer you in the wrong direction. There has to be a way out though, and I believe that's with confidence and support.

But you can't have the former without the latter.
Cheer up, they say.
Stop moping, they say.
You're useless. Lazy. You don't care about anyone but yourself.

if I cared about myself I sure as hell wouldn't be in the mental distortion that I'm in.
I would actually give a fuck about making it in life. But no.
They don't care about me and I'm on the same page.
Why should I care about myself?'

The room was filled with a thick silence after it had all been read. Off topic really, but there was a deeper meaning there. A knife had stuck into Axel's chest, and Roxas was on the giving end with a darkened pool of misery.

"I give a fuck Roxas. I want you to get out of this shithole and have a happy life." Slender fingers gripped the notebook to the point that it was shaking in Axel's hand.

His remark was met with cold, empty cerulean eyes and a tremble of lips on the verge between anger, hurt, and utter shock. Roxas had never heard, and actually seen before what just took place. The redhead walked closer until the two were about an inch from a nose touch.

"Why do we suffer so much for love? Because we want to - Because we love pain and above everything, those late night calls to hear a sleepy voice on the receiving end. Those moments that you begin to remember the things you did together like pure flash backs. And all the things and moments that went wrong. It's like human torture. I recommend that you leave all of that behind and keep moving forward, because life will bring you more, difficult, life long tests. You have to keep climbing the ladder, and if you fall, never forget to keep moving forward. Because remembering past events, is like taking 20 steps back. Don't yell victory for being able to forget those moments. Yell victory when you are able to forget that persons difficulties, which relatively speaking won't happen . And yell a final victory when life gives you more reasons to laugh and smile at life, for the way it is. And of course, being able to feel."

Without a single chance to react, Axel cupped his free hand upon Roxas's cheek and placed a soft kiss upon his nose.

"And taking chances."

it was then clear that Roxas would never understand Axel Cisero, the way that he could freely still be himself, even though the odds were more than stacked against him. Although that kiss was light, it still sparked a wave of emotions over Roxas, and as soon as the dull passion connected tears began to pour out of him lie a broken faucet.

For an hour the two sat without saying a word. Axel cradled the fragile Roxas while he wept, brushing fingers over his messy spiked hair in attempt to soothe the teen. Finally, the verbal silence was broken.

"Axel...are things going to get better?"
At that, the door to their holding room was flung open. The same strawberry blond that had the misfortune of being the first to meet Roxas beckoned for him with a finger.

"Hikari, your parents are here for you."

I'm too mental to go crazy
I'm too drunk too be pure
And, my mind is playing tricks on me
And, I can't sleep tonight 'cause I'm so tired