The Only Hope For Me Is You.
One.
"I'm just not really looking for a relationship right now, but I really appreciate the offer,” he ended bitterly.
“You're just to fucking selfish to admit that you actually have feelings for someone.”
“No, I'm just not gay.”
As a 17 year old, things often seem hard for any teenager, but if you ask Frank he'll assure you he's seemingly had it harder than the rest. New to an area where he essentially has no friends, he often finds himself in his room lonesome, drowning himself in loud music until he gets either bored or tired enough to sleep, which ever comes first. On the weekends he usually ends up walking aimlessly around his small Jersey suburb town, as his parents work hard at their new jobs. The neighbors are friendly enough, and often attempt to make small talk with the short, small framed teen, but he's less than enthused to talk to the mid 40's house wives, and 7 year old children that are often flooded in the community. Neatly trimmed lawn after lawn, everyone's houses seem to be perfect. Their outward appearance of their family seems perfect, and to most, the new-to-town Iero's probably seem perfect as well. Frank couldn't disagree more.
He walks along the tree lined streets with Anti-Flag blasting in his ears. At this particular time, he doesn't have a care in the world. Nothing from his previous town is haunting his thoughts. He doesn't remember the drama that he's previously moved away from. He doesn't pay attention to the redundant comments his mother spurred at him as they drove away from the state where Frank attempted suicide. No, he doesn't pay attention to what his ex has put him through. In that moment, it's just the melodies and guitar riffs that capture his thoughts. He looks up at the trees and notice they're just starting to change color, and notes to himself that he probably should unpack his boxes that contain his clothes that are meant for colder weather. 3 blocks from home, he finds a secluded park that is usually filled with the neighborhood's adolescence, but at this hour they're tucked into bed safe and sound from the dangers of the world.
As children, we don't comprehend- can't comprehend how bad the world can really be. We never understand that people can be bad out in the world. Always trusting of anyone we come into contact with, we believe in our heart of heart's that they have no bad intentions, and that anything they say is the truth. Frank thinks about this as he lays on the freshly mowed grass, that's still wet from recently being watered. He looks at the stars of the night, and realizes he can actually make out the constellations, which he finds pleasures in for a short while.
We used to look at the stars together, he thinks to himself.
As children, we can't comprehend how bad the world can really be.
“You're just to fucking selfish to admit that you actually have feelings for someone.”
“No, I'm just not gay.”
As a 17 year old, things often seem hard for any teenager, but if you ask Frank he'll assure you he's seemingly had it harder than the rest. New to an area where he essentially has no friends, he often finds himself in his room lonesome, drowning himself in loud music until he gets either bored or tired enough to sleep, which ever comes first. On the weekends he usually ends up walking aimlessly around his small Jersey suburb town, as his parents work hard at their new jobs. The neighbors are friendly enough, and often attempt to make small talk with the short, small framed teen, but he's less than enthused to talk to the mid 40's house wives, and 7 year old children that are often flooded in the community. Neatly trimmed lawn after lawn, everyone's houses seem to be perfect. Their outward appearance of their family seems perfect, and to most, the new-to-town Iero's probably seem perfect as well. Frank couldn't disagree more.
He walks along the tree lined streets with Anti-Flag blasting in his ears. At this particular time, he doesn't have a care in the world. Nothing from his previous town is haunting his thoughts. He doesn't remember the drama that he's previously moved away from. He doesn't pay attention to the redundant comments his mother spurred at him as they drove away from the state where Frank attempted suicide. No, he doesn't pay attention to what his ex has put him through. In that moment, it's just the melodies and guitar riffs that capture his thoughts. He looks up at the trees and notice they're just starting to change color, and notes to himself that he probably should unpack his boxes that contain his clothes that are meant for colder weather. 3 blocks from home, he finds a secluded park that is usually filled with the neighborhood's adolescence, but at this hour they're tucked into bed safe and sound from the dangers of the world.
As children, we don't comprehend- can't comprehend how bad the world can really be. We never understand that people can be bad out in the world. Always trusting of anyone we come into contact with, we believe in our heart of heart's that they have no bad intentions, and that anything they say is the truth. Frank thinks about this as he lays on the freshly mowed grass, that's still wet from recently being watered. He looks at the stars of the night, and realizes he can actually make out the constellations, which he finds pleasures in for a short while.
We used to look at the stars together, he thinks to himself.
As children, we can't comprehend how bad the world can really be.
Notes
originally posted on mibba.hope you enjoy.
~xoxo,
m
BRING THIS BACK!<3
3/5/15