photo DSCF3169_zpsa723161f.jpg


Ein schwerer Traum.
  Startseite
  Über...
  Archiv
  Chlorophyll
  Papier
  Holz
  Stein
  Eisen
  Baumwolle
  Porzellanscherben
  Wachs
  Pudding
  Lena
  Du zögerst?
  Porzellan
  Kontakt
 

  Abonnieren
 


 



https://myblog.de/eeroismus

Gratis bloggen bei
myblog.de





 


Oh, neeein. Ich weine.

When they were younger, Gerard and Mikey would sit in the living room together and do their homework, while their mother cooked dinner in the kitchen. It was Gerard?s job to help Mikey, since he was the older one. Once, Mikey had to make a collage for art class and he asked Gerard for help. They spent ours flipping through magazines searching for the perfect lips, ones that matched Mikey?s to a T. They finally found them inside their mother?s Vogue, pressed tightly together and pursed, giving the owner a look of permanent concentration, even if the owner looked like just another crack-whore model. Gerard had kissed the page and said that the delicate paper would never be as great as Mikey?s lips.

Mikey didn?t understand what he meant, but he knew that it made him blush. Then Gerard told him he looked greatest when he blushed. Mikey turned bright red, and spent the night in his room, wondering if Gerard thought he looked like a drugged-up model. If that was what Gerard liked, then Mikey would try his best to look that way.

This is where the complex began.

When they got a little older, Gerard would steal their mother?s lipstick, and apply it heavily to his lips, that were so much unlike Mikey?s. They were full and rotund, and begged for attention. He would prance around the house, forcing Mikey to admit that he was pretty with lipstick smeared all over his face. Mikey would say so, and break down laughing, trying to hide the fact that he really did think Gerard was pretty. The evening would end with Gerard leaving a glowing red kiss on the wall that connected their rooms. At night, Mikey would crawl out of his bed and place his lips on the heavy scarlet mark and pretend he was kissing Gerard, like the girls and boys in school kissed each other. By the end of the year, his walls were painted in red lipstick.

When Gerard was a senior, ready to leave for college, he dated a girl that Mikey didn?t like. He didn?t like her mainly because she looked so much like him. Rail thin with shoulder blades that jutted out from beneath her skin tight t-shirts, pursed lips usually covered in rosy lipstick that was eternally glued to Gerard?s neck, glasses that never stayed straight, and horrible posture. Mikey liked to think that if that was what Gerard wanted, he was perfect, and this middle woman could be cut out. Gerard always complained about the noises she made in bed anyway, and Mikey was so sure he would be the perfect lover. But only for Gerard.

When Gerard went off to New York to study art, Mikey started dating this girl. His mother told him it was scary how alike they were, but Mikey convinced her he liked her, loved her. He convinced everyone but himself. He knew that the only reason he was with this girl- this ugly, selfish girl- was because he could still taste Gerard on her lips. He could still feel the spaces Gerard has indented on her when they had fucked, ghosts of fingerprints on her thighs. He placed his hands exactly the way he knew Gerard had, and held her the same way, just so she?d return the favor and kiss him one more time. But a taste can only stay in a place so long, and as soon as Gerard?s was gone, he left her.

In New York, Gerard bought out all of the cheap red lipstick and copies of Vogue CVS carried. He spent weekends sitting in his room and piecing together collages, covering his wall in his masterpieces and then scribbling a message over the eyes and lips and noses of his artwork. He covered the wall in a large black sheet and left it for a rainy day. He colored his hair black and took pictures to send to Mikey, kissing the back of each photograph red before putting them all in an envelope and sending them straight to Jersey.

Mikey grinned as he opened the only letter he?d ever received in his life, and pulled out a stack of photographs, all of Gerard with shockingly dark, long hair. It took him an hour to work through them, and when he was finished, his hands were stained red. He panicked until he flipped the pictures over and saw the perfect lip stains he?d smudged, and went on to tape them all to the wall, face down, so Gerard was hidden. But his love wasn?t.

Christmas came around and Mikey packed a single duffle bag and bought a bus ticket to the city, taking presents from his parents to Gerard, and carrying his own deep within his chest. He arrived in the city at nine o?clock on Christmas Eve, traffic on the tunnel had been backed up for hours, and had to ask two cops and hooker for directions before he found his way to Gerard?s hidden apartment above a pet store. The stairs smelled rancid and he nearly fell down them twice, because it was just too damn dark. He stood outside the door with his hand raised, ready to knock, for ten minutes trying to figure out what the hell he was going to say.

When he?d finally decided and softly knocked on the door, it swung open automatically, and there stood Gerard. Full cheeks and all smiles, pulling Mikey close and breathing in all that he?d missed out on for four months. It really was a lot to take in, the fact that Mikey was using a new shampoo, and was that aftershave? He told Mikey that he?d grown too much, and that he was too thin. ?But isn?t that the way you like me?? And he laughed, wondering why Mikey would ever get an idea like that.

?You?re perfect just the way you are.?

They spent the night smoking in Gerard?s room and talking about how things were back home. They danced around the subject of what had happened to the photographs, or why Gerard had a sheet covering half his room. When the clock struck twelve, they whispered ?Merry Christmas? over and over as they fell asleep on the floor.

Mikey awoke first, jumping up to stare out the window to find no white Christmas. In fact, it was raining, buckets and buckets of dirty New York City water flooded the streets. It made his heart ache and his chest tight, and all he wanted to do was to go home. He unpacked his tooth brush and went into the bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet only to find tubes of half used red lipstick. He smiled to himself at the memories of the red walls and the photos, taking a tube and slowly applying it to his lips just so. He kissed the mirror before wiping the red off, and then wrote ?Merry Christmas? in large, cursive letters next to the kiss.

Gerard woke up to find Mikey sitting and staring at him, and he didn?t like it. His eyes were cold, and he?d never seen Mikey with anything but warmth in his features. ?Merry Christmas? he tried, to no avail. ?What?s wrong?? Mikey nodded to the wall that had not so long ago been covered by the black sheet, and Gerard?s heart sank.

There was his masterpiece, fifteen perfect collages of his dear Mikey, all taped to the wall. But of course that wasn?t the sticking point of the piece, it would be so unlike Gerard to just leave something so plain and simple. No, there was more. More that he ever wanted Mikey to see, more that he wished was a mutual emotion. Big capital letters spelling out every thought he?d ever had of Mikey, scarlet letters rolling one over the other.

'I love you.

I need you. You?re beautiful. You?re everything I wish I was. I wish just once you could be mine. It?s wrong. It?s right. We should run away. We can make it. I?d die for you. I know you feel this way.

I love you.'

Gerard?s jaw hardened as he pushed back the tears. He couldn?t look at Mikey, he couldn?t look anywhere but at his own mistakes scribbled on the wall. He wanted to take it all back, to take back the life he?d ruined. He?d killed everything they ever had a chance of starting.

?Gerard?? Mikey was sitting with him on the floor, staring at the same words as he was, thinking the same thoughts. ?Can I try something?? Gerard could only nod, still unable to look his little brother in the eye. He was so ashamed. He?d spent so long dropping hints and telling lies, but he couldn?t stand up and be a man when it was all revealed in one fell swoop.

He knew it was coming, but the shock still took over as Mikey pressed his thin lips to his own. It was short and sweet, but his body burned and his lungs collapsed. It was all he ever wanted, all they ever wanted.

Mikey raised himself to his feet and grabbed his things, leaving Gerard the presents from their parents and telling him his art was coming along great. Gerard walked Mikey to the door and grabbed his hand. It was too cold, he told him, and kissed the palm, trying desperately to bring warmth into this little kid, his little brother. Mikey?s palm burned now, and he brought it to his own lips to cool it down, but nothing would ever stop the heat.

They hugged each other close at the door, never wanting to let go. But there would be times when they could hold each other for hours on end now. There would be time for everything and anything. Their lips were ready and willing now, no need for the wait.



Aaaah...

~...und das will ich sehen...~
3.11.05 14:10
 


bisher 0 Kommentar(e)     TrackBack-URL

Name:
Email:
Website:
E-Mail bei weiteren Kommentaren
Informationen speichern (Cookie)


Die Datenschuterklärung und die AGB habe ich gelesen, verstanden und akzeptiere sie. (Pflicht Angabe)

 Smileys einfügen



Verantwortlich für die Inhalte ist der Autor. Dein kostenloses Blog bei myblog.de! Datenschutzerklärung
Werbung