Bang
Title:Bang
Author:
secularsaint:: Katie
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Patrick's suicide note.
Disclaimer: These boys are not mine. They belong to themselves and their mothers.
Author Notes: I know a Patrick suicide fic was requested a long time ago. I know this isn't exactly a suicide fic, but it's a note. Heavily inspired by T.S. Eliot's poem The Hollow Men. Lightly inspired by We Are Scientist songs.
Warnings: Suicide. Depressing.
It's hard to be left out, and I know you know that, but lately you don't care. I feel like we can't be anything because you love me. Because you don't know how to do that. Or is it that you know too well? You say you'd do anything for me, but why is it you're doing everything for everybody else?
It's like that whole Chicago scene over again. And everybody thought it'd be you, it was you. But now it's me. Me. And why would anybody expect that? They wouldn't. Except you, but you've never been 'they'. And now you/they/everyone don't/doesn't care.
My heart feels heavy. My head feels light. Is this what it feels like? Is this how you felt? We've always told beautiful lies to each other, lies. You write the words, not me. But they come so easily tonight, when they don't matter. Words will never matter anymore. Not for me. But always everything for you. So much more.
Everything always affected you so much more, I think. Is that why this is happening? Because you let it show, wear your heart on your sleeve, and I try to keep it together. But it's not working anymore. The only thing I'm keeping together are these knees to this stomach. These pills to this hand.
They're yours. Is that some kind of irony, I'm not sure. That I'm using your pills? I'm sure you could write a paradox about it. Turn my two words into twenty. Over-exaggerate and under-explain. Turn phrases into paragraphs. That was always your gift.
My ambit jumped off a cliff, everything's fuzzy when I'm stretched so far.
I never thought I'd do it like this. With pills. With lethal amounts of toxins coursing through these veins. Miles and miles of veins. I always wanted a bang. But when it comes down to it, I can't.
Take care of yourself. Get some sleep. Find some love.
AND THIS IS HOW THE WORLD ENDS, NOT WITH A BANG BUT A WHIMPER
-Patrick.
Author:
secularsaint:: KatieRating: PG-13
Summary: Patrick's suicide note.
Disclaimer: These boys are not mine. They belong to themselves and their mothers.
Author Notes: I know a Patrick suicide fic was requested a long time ago. I know this isn't exactly a suicide fic, but it's a note. Heavily inspired by T.S. Eliot's poem The Hollow Men. Lightly inspired by We Are Scientist songs.
Warnings: Suicide. Depressing.
It's hard to be left out, and I know you know that, but lately you don't care. I feel like we can't be anything because you love me. Because you don't know how to do that. Or is it that you know too well? You say you'd do anything for me, but why is it you're doing everything for everybody else?
It's like that whole Chicago scene over again. And everybody thought it'd be you, it was you. But now it's me. Me. And why would anybody expect that? They wouldn't. Except you, but you've never been 'they'. And now you/they/everyone don't/doesn't care.
My heart feels heavy. My head feels light. Is this what it feels like? Is this how you felt? We've always told beautiful lies to each other, lies. You write the words, not me. But they come so easily tonight, when they don't matter. Words will never matter anymore. Not for me. But always everything for you. So much more.
Everything always affected you so much more, I think. Is that why this is happening? Because you let it show, wear your heart on your sleeve, and I try to keep it together. But it's not working anymore. The only thing I'm keeping together are these knees to this stomach. These pills to this hand.
They're yours. Is that some kind of irony, I'm not sure. That I'm using your pills? I'm sure you could write a paradox about it. Turn my two words into twenty. Over-exaggerate and under-explain. Turn phrases into paragraphs. That was always your gift.
My ambit jumped off a cliff, everything's fuzzy when I'm stretched so far.
I never thought I'd do it like this. With pills. With lethal amounts of toxins coursing through these veins. Miles and miles of veins. I always wanted a bang. But when it comes down to it, I can't.
Take care of yourself. Get some sleep. Find some love.
AND THIS IS HOW THE WORLD ENDS, NOT WITH A BANG BUT A WHIMPER
-Patrick.