Instability
Based on "Vermilion" by Slipknot
A/N: Self-distruction, death, paranoid schizophrenia
I lie motionless, dwarfed by the rough trees that ring around where I lay. A light breeze shuffles through the twilight making the leaves dance a slow waltz through the evening sky while my bright crystal eyes remained fixed on a point far off in the distance. The whites of my eyes are ringed with a deep crimson liquid that has dried and blacken over many, many lonely hours. The whole affair looks like I’ve sat down and tried to drunkenly stab my eyes out with cheap eyeliner and it makes my skin look even paler still. My knife, new and sharp and barely used lies glinting by the base of a nearby tree while the bloody artistry it created lays bared for all to see on my bloated forehead. Dead, with the bleeding letters of the word “Ville” carved into my forehead was how they found me…
And I won’t let this build up inside of me…
The mirror was cracked, right down the middle halving the frosty glass. I could see my pale face reflected in it, and his too, hovering just above my own. I could tell those haunting green eyes anywhere.
The eyes had that kind of deathly quality about them, like their not quite alive but their not quite dead either. All I know is they were beau-ti-ful!
I closed my own horrid eyes, my plain boring blue eyes and stared at the insides of my eyelids. If I stared for long enough the pictures would come. Shapes, colours and patterns would form and dance, decorating my eyelids. And eventually his eyes would come too, those eyes. They haunt my waking moments and my dreams. I would wake up at night and they would be lying there next to me. I‘d turn on the street and they’d be following me. And when I’m alone, their all around me. They’re in the mirror, in my head, above me, behind me, beside me. I can run all I want but their always there.
And I love every minute of it.
I open my eyes again and stare back into to the mirror to where his pasty face had been and it’s gone. There’s only misty glass left staring back at me.
He’s gone again, the green eyes were gone. But they’ll be back.
“They love me,” the walls can hear me mutter softly, my tone delirious and joyful
“They love me and they’ll never leave me,” they heard me whisper as a wicked grin spread across my face.
“They love me,”
Hard to say what caught my attention
Fixed and crazy
Aphid attraction
I can remember back when it all started. Back to when the eyes didn’t follow me and I was alone, very alone. Back in the days when I’d stare in a mirror and only one set of eyes would stare back at me. Back in the day when the only eyes I had were my own. Back in the days when I HATED myself!
It used to make me angry, scared and angry, but mostly angry. So I did what any self respecting arsehole does, I took it out on others.
I was always a malicious little thing, sadistic. Got off on torturing little things, little helpless things; like sticking dead animals to remote control cars and driving them around. I was the kind of bastard who enjoyed the whips and chains and kinky shit. Sadism. Masochism. Good times.
But then that all changed, all the hatred left, flew away, like an insy winsy birdy on speed. It all flew away when I met him. He changed me. Waltzed into my life like he owned it, took my cold, hard stone of a heart and CHANGED me! For the better? Maybe. But he changed me.
And I loved him.
He is everything and more
The solemn hypnotic
He came to me often. Flew to me, just like that insy wincy birdy, flew over ocean to see me. CAUSE HE FUCKING LOVED ME, that’s why. He always did love me.
We were something special. We whispered I love you between white hotel sheets and meant it.
We lived like kings, ordering caviar off room services menus and popping champagne corks off exotic balconies.
Many caught onto us, called us “cute”. Called us “gay”. They called us lots of things! But I knew more abuses than any of them could ever sling at us so it never worried us.
Cause we were in love. We said that nothing mattered but each other. That we’d have each other for ETERNITY!
Eternity’s a lie.
Just like everything I ever loved, it’s all a FUCKING LIE.
I should have known better.
I get nervous, perverse
When I see him, it’s worse
Melancholia is what they called it. Such a pretty word, the way it just rolls off your tongue like summer raindrops. That’s what the shrink said it was. Melancholia. Say it with me kids, Mel-an-chol-i-a.
But it was desertion, he said he loved me, he said he’d never leave me. But he did.
He left me. HE FUCKING LEFT ME! He was lying under six feet of damp soil rotting and I was left alone.
But it wasn’t too long before I wasn’t alone. Well I was, but I was alone with company.
His eyes came back to me. I was awash with grief but even in death he came to comfort me. His bright shiny emerald orbs came back. I was just sitting there on my bed in the dark, crying like a baby and he came back.
Those beautiful eyes, those beautiful haunting eyes appeared beside me again, they were back. They were back! They were back!
And I was happy.
I could smile.
Climatic hands that press
His temples and my chest
You were there; I could almost feel your deadly fingers running up and down my spine. And if I thought about it hard enough I could feel you right there inside of me again. Heavy breathing, sweaty palms. It was just like old times.
Romantically I’d pour two glasses of wine and then drink them both myself, savouring the taste between my lips like I savoured your sweetest kiss. I could feel your tongue intermingled with mine once again. We were together again, like we always were. You were there, just over my shoulder, next to my reflection in the mirror, lying next to me between crisp white sheets. Your green eyes were all around me again.
You were here like you had never left.
We were in love again. You hadn’t lied.
So fragile yet so devious
He continues to see
But you drove me crazy, that’s what you did! CRAZY!
It was sweet at first, comforting, even romantic but I couldn’t be alone. There was no alone. You were always there, just over my shoulder, in front of me, behind me, just round that corner, by the lamp post with the flickering globe. EVERYWHERE!
I become paranoid, psychotic, crazy, mad! You were there. They all said “No it’s all just in your head, its just grief messing with your mind,” but I knew you were there.
When I was alone in my room I wasn’t alone, every time I undressed I could feel your perverted eyes running up and down my naked form.
I knew you were watching me YOU VOYUERISTIC FREAK!
You just couldn’t leave me alone could you? You had to go. I had to make you go. Those hypnotic, seductive green eyes had TO GO!
I’ll bleed it out, that’s right. Then it will be gone. Everything will be fine; I’ll just bleed you away.
Just a little knife blade here and there and you’ll be all gone. I’ll be all better.
Because I can’t let this build up inside of me.
I won’t let this build up inside of me…
A/N: Self-distruction, death, paranoid schizophrenia
I lie motionless, dwarfed by the rough trees that ring around where I lay. A light breeze shuffles through the twilight making the leaves dance a slow waltz through the evening sky while my bright crystal eyes remained fixed on a point far off in the distance. The whites of my eyes are ringed with a deep crimson liquid that has dried and blacken over many, many lonely hours. The whole affair looks like I’ve sat down and tried to drunkenly stab my eyes out with cheap eyeliner and it makes my skin look even paler still. My knife, new and sharp and barely used lies glinting by the base of a nearby tree while the bloody artistry it created lays bared for all to see on my bloated forehead. Dead, with the bleeding letters of the word “Ville” carved into my forehead was how they found me…
And I won’t let this build up inside of me…
The mirror was cracked, right down the middle halving the frosty glass. I could see my pale face reflected in it, and his too, hovering just above my own. I could tell those haunting green eyes anywhere.
The eyes had that kind of deathly quality about them, like their not quite alive but their not quite dead either. All I know is they were beau-ti-ful!
I closed my own horrid eyes, my plain boring blue eyes and stared at the insides of my eyelids. If I stared for long enough the pictures would come. Shapes, colours and patterns would form and dance, decorating my eyelids. And eventually his eyes would come too, those eyes. They haunt my waking moments and my dreams. I would wake up at night and they would be lying there next to me. I‘d turn on the street and they’d be following me. And when I’m alone, their all around me. They’re in the mirror, in my head, above me, behind me, beside me. I can run all I want but their always there.
And I love every minute of it.
I open my eyes again and stare back into to the mirror to where his pasty face had been and it’s gone. There’s only misty glass left staring back at me.
He’s gone again, the green eyes were gone. But they’ll be back.
“They love me,” the walls can hear me mutter softly, my tone delirious and joyful
“They love me and they’ll never leave me,” they heard me whisper as a wicked grin spread across my face.
“They love me,”
Hard to say what caught my attention
Fixed and crazy
Aphid attraction
I can remember back when it all started. Back to when the eyes didn’t follow me and I was alone, very alone. Back in the days when I’d stare in a mirror and only one set of eyes would stare back at me. Back in the day when the only eyes I had were my own. Back in the days when I HATED myself!
It used to make me angry, scared and angry, but mostly angry. So I did what any self respecting arsehole does, I took it out on others.
I was always a malicious little thing, sadistic. Got off on torturing little things, little helpless things; like sticking dead animals to remote control cars and driving them around. I was the kind of bastard who enjoyed the whips and chains and kinky shit. Sadism. Masochism. Good times.
But then that all changed, all the hatred left, flew away, like an insy winsy birdy on speed. It all flew away when I met him. He changed me. Waltzed into my life like he owned it, took my cold, hard stone of a heart and CHANGED me! For the better? Maybe. But he changed me.
And I loved him.
He is everything and more
The solemn hypnotic
He came to me often. Flew to me, just like that insy wincy birdy, flew over ocean to see me. CAUSE HE FUCKING LOVED ME, that’s why. He always did love me.
We were something special. We whispered I love you between white hotel sheets and meant it.
We lived like kings, ordering caviar off room services menus and popping champagne corks off exotic balconies.
Many caught onto us, called us “cute”. Called us “gay”. They called us lots of things! But I knew more abuses than any of them could ever sling at us so it never worried us.
Cause we were in love. We said that nothing mattered but each other. That we’d have each other for ETERNITY!
Eternity’s a lie.
Just like everything I ever loved, it’s all a FUCKING LIE.
I should have known better.
I get nervous, perverse
When I see him, it’s worse
Melancholia is what they called it. Such a pretty word, the way it just rolls off your tongue like summer raindrops. That’s what the shrink said it was. Melancholia. Say it with me kids, Mel-an-chol-i-a.
But it was desertion, he said he loved me, he said he’d never leave me. But he did.
He left me. HE FUCKING LEFT ME! He was lying under six feet of damp soil rotting and I was left alone.
But it wasn’t too long before I wasn’t alone. Well I was, but I was alone with company.
His eyes came back to me. I was awash with grief but even in death he came to comfort me. His bright shiny emerald orbs came back. I was just sitting there on my bed in the dark, crying like a baby and he came back.
Those beautiful eyes, those beautiful haunting eyes appeared beside me again, they were back. They were back! They were back!
And I was happy.
I could smile.
Climatic hands that press
His temples and my chest
You were there; I could almost feel your deadly fingers running up and down my spine. And if I thought about it hard enough I could feel you right there inside of me again. Heavy breathing, sweaty palms. It was just like old times.
Romantically I’d pour two glasses of wine and then drink them both myself, savouring the taste between my lips like I savoured your sweetest kiss. I could feel your tongue intermingled with mine once again. We were together again, like we always were. You were there, just over my shoulder, next to my reflection in the mirror, lying next to me between crisp white sheets. Your green eyes were all around me again.
You were here like you had never left.
We were in love again. You hadn’t lied.
So fragile yet so devious
He continues to see
But you drove me crazy, that’s what you did! CRAZY!
It was sweet at first, comforting, even romantic but I couldn’t be alone. There was no alone. You were always there, just over my shoulder, in front of me, behind me, just round that corner, by the lamp post with the flickering globe. EVERYWHERE!
I become paranoid, psychotic, crazy, mad! You were there. They all said “No it’s all just in your head, its just grief messing with your mind,” but I knew you were there.
When I was alone in my room I wasn’t alone, every time I undressed I could feel your perverted eyes running up and down my naked form.
I knew you were watching me YOU VOYUERISTIC FREAK!
You just couldn’t leave me alone could you? You had to go. I had to make you go. Those hypnotic, seductive green eyes had TO GO!
I’ll bleed it out, that’s right. Then it will be gone. Everything will be fine; I’ll just bleed you away.
Just a little knife blade here and there and you’ll be all gone. I’ll be all better.
Because I can’t let this build up inside of me.
I won’t let this build up inside of me…