everyone else is asleep
all i have is you
shape edge and silent words
but i know exactly what youd say
as you glide wonderfully across
blood kissed skin
Ryan let his beat-up, black notebook fall shut quieter than a whisper as his pencil dropped in unison against his stomach. This was a specific journal of his, not his typical writing book.
It was more like...
His personal diary of sorts.
The covers were nearly identical, both sporting several Beatles stickers on them, their spiral spines both black to match the cover, they were hard to tell apart. Though, Ryan liked it that way. Writing in this book was like coming up with things in his lyric book in a way, the words came naturally and spilled out.
These were words that would never be ushered, though.
His sidekick buzzed of Low Battery as it flashed the time 12:36AM next to his head on his pillow, soon quickly shutting off entirely. Ryan was lying on his bunk, the cramped space in question was above Brendon's humble abode unfortunately.
It wasn't that Ryan didn't enjoy Brendon's company, of course he liked being around his best friend, but sleeping above him wasn't ideal. The issue wasn't that Brendon snored, or how he'd always have his music too loud to the point it would be heard through his headphones, or even how often Brendon kicked Ryan's bunk. Hell, the problem wasn't even that it was Brendon specifically.
The proximity was the issue.
See, Ryan had been working through a... problem of his. A problem he never dared whisper out loud and admit to his faults.
Rejecting blame for his own mistakes made him human after all, didn't it?
The guitarist's eyes peered over to his shiny friend who lived comfortably in his hand for the time being, it's sharp edge digging faint red lines into the palm of his hand. As his words had proven prior, this was his only true friend when it came to times like these.
Ryan knew full well that all he needed to do to safely solve his issues (Or atleast work on them) was to peek his head down into anyone else's bunk, or even text someone. Simple as that. But, he didn't have the courage, the motivation, the self respect.
Before he knew it, Ryan's book had opened back up to the next blank page, words already filling up the spaces as if they were made to be placed there in graphite.
i tell myself it was an accident
though while i watch the guilt trickling down my arm
i know my intentions
but shying away from ownership
is the most human thing i can do
The boy's gaze shifted down to his left wrist, he wasn't sure when in the past few moments his 'friend' had drifted over his veiny arm again, as blood began to seep onto his black Beatles hoodie.
"God damn it," Ryan muttered, dropping his blade, pencil, and book onto his pillow as he slithered out of his bunk.
Blood ended up dripping onto the pages of his notebook as they fluttered shut, even drowning the cover in bits of red guilt. Ryan was careful not to wake Brendon under him as he stepped on the edge of the bottom bunk, hoping off of it as swiftly as he could.
