You Called It Rock 'N' Roll.

The story of a girl being spiralled into a world of the wrong kind of rock and roll. The story of a girl who lost her lover, so she joined him.

You love and leave me.
You f**k me and chuck me.
You break me and forsake me.
You use me and abuse me.

 

And all the rhymes that follow suit.

 

Explaining the wonderland you showed me.

 

The drugs we shoot up our fading veins,
that make us grin and sway.

 

"It's rock 'n' roll, baby,"
you would slur with a bottle of alcohol in hand.

 

 

Your eyes are distant.
Your heartbeat accelerating as you grin.
This is your wonderland,
not mine.

Fading moonlight,

 glaring sunlight.
Burning our eyes

as sleep overtakes.
The music slows,

and so does your pulse.

 

We lay down on the grass,
churning in our stomachs
and pain throbbing our heads.
Our limbs feel like rubber bands,
being stretched to the extreme by fatigue.

 

 

Your eyes roll back, the blue colour in them fading.
Your breathing calms, like the melody of a lullaby.

 

But your lullaby is the heroine that pumps through your veins.
Your best friend the music that booms in your ear.

Blue is tingeing your lips.
A deathly silence echoing from your mouth.
No heart is pounding against your rib cage.

 

Fear washes through me as I stare at you.
Frozen to the spot like a snowman at Christmas,
longing to join the happy family ripping open presents.

 

 

"You can't leave me!"
I scream pointlessly at your still body.

 

No chuckle leaves your lips.
No jolt of a heartbeats rhythm hitting your chest.

 

 

Tears are running down my cheeks now.
Their dripping onto your cold skin,
running down your pale face,
and falling to the dewy grass beneath your corpse.

 

I guess the lifestyle caught up,
and took your soul before you could react.
Like an electric shock,
sparking through your body,

as you touch that bare wire.

Your corpse lays in a coffin now,
slowly lowered to your last resting place.

White flowers are thrown

onto your white box,
as you leave me.

 

 

Your mother's crying,
her make up smudged

as she watches her son leave her.

 

 

Your father is near tears,
consoling your mother

as her sobs choke her throat.

 

 

Me,

I'm staring at the coffin in shock.
My fingernails are digging into the palms of my hands,
blood beginning to sprout from the broken skin.

 

 

I feel cold.

 

Empty.

 

 

Hollow.

 

My heart is beating,
unlike yours

as you lay six feet under.

 

I can imagine the words you would say.
Hear them in my ears,
playing over and over like a broken record.

 

 

Your playful soul is haunting me,
it's chanting the words as it floats around me.

 

Tormenting me.

 

 

So close,

I could reach out and touch it.
Feel your hand wrapped around mine.
Feel you twirl me round in circles,
like we did on that fateful night.

 

"Don't cry,"
you would demand in a soft voice.

 

 

"Come join me."
Pleading with me to accompany you.

A single tear slices down my cheek.

 

The zombie in the mirror,
not that same person as I was.

 

 

Their eyes are cold.
Their cheeks hollow.
Their smile smudged,
from the painted mask

I wear each day.

 

 

Words are surrounding her.

 

 

Screaming in her ear.

 

 

Reminding her of the torture she endures.

 

 

The guitar lays beside my bed,
a ghost of memories past.

Chords ring out,
pleading to be strummed with a smile.

 

 

Metal,
cold and tempting,
is curled within my grasp.

 

 

The smooth sides

 carresing my fingertips.
The silver glinting

 in the dim light
that illuminates the room.

 

 

I'm sat like a child.

 

 

Legs,
numb and painstricken,
are crossed under my figure.

 

 

I stare at the veins.

 

 

Follow the faint line as it works up my arm.
The juiciest one calls out to me.

Like a siren's song,
willing my ship to crash into the rocks,
for her enjoyment.

 

 

"See you soon,"
I whisper up at the sky.

 

Sharp pain shoots through my arm.
Blood spilling across the floor.

 

My eyes roll back.

 

A savage smile

pulling at the edges of my numbing lips.

 

The blade falls to the floor.

 

My corpse joins it,
my hair soaking

with the sticky liquid,
that keeps on bubbeling from my wrists.

 

 

Never stopping.

 

My heartbeat is slowing.
I can feel darkness dragging me in,
inviting me to death.

 

 

Breath,
lonesome and thin,
is drawn into the drying crevice of my throat.

 

My last gasp of oxygen
passing quickly.

 

 

Lungs,
once used to yell lyrics and laugh,
now deflating,
and lining the back of my ribcage.

 

I can see your face,
smiling as you beckon me to join you.

 

 

The last sound hitting my ears,
is the piercing scream,
as my mother finds me.

 

Her hands are cradeling me.

Her tears are splashing on me.

But,
as I watch on from above,
I laugh.

I laugh about nothing.

I laugh about everything.

I laugh because it's funny.

I laugh because it's heart-wrenching.

 

 

I laugh just because...

Author's Note

The sisnister side of a love and Rock'n'Roll cocktail. Tell me what you think! :)

Reviews

[BeccaB]

i love this piece it realy shows good vived images through your words and i love the layout