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ahopper84Welcome to another Dirty Angsty Zaylor Friday! Sorry this is getting posted a little later in the day. Boy do I ever suck at the "wp" part of pwp... Oh, the sequel to Cracks In The Night is coming, probably next week. Until then, hope you like this one!
Drink down that gin and kerosene,
And come spit on bridges with me
Just to keep us warm.
Light a match to leave me be.
Your mouth tasted like cigarettes and cheap vodka the first time we kissed. We were in LA, trying to finish our third album. You said you were going for a drive, and I asked to tag along. It was almost your birthday, but I still hadn’t gotten you anything. I figured maybe you’d let a hint slip about what you wanted.
We drove out of the city, picking a random back highway. It was afternoon when we left, but the sun was setting by the time we stopped. There was a place to pull off, some kind of scenic vista or something where you could see the whole city skyline. I remember you grabbing a bottle from under your seat and getting out of the car.
I followed you right to the edge; you leaned against the wooden fence like you were sure it wouldn’t break. Looking back, maybe you just didn’t care. You took a swig from the bottle, thought about it, and offered me a sip. I shrugged and said why not. I asked what we were celebrating, and you laughed. It sounded a lot like a sob. You looked out over the landscape below, finished what was in the bottle, and tossed it. I listened for the crash of shattering glass; you smiled when you heard it.
We stood there until the orange sky turned violet, then indigo. You smoked one of your cigarettes, the fancy kind that smelled spicy and sweet. I’ve always like the smell of them, maybe because they remind me so much of you. When the stub threatened to burn your fingers you flicked it away, the tiny glow disappearing in the darkness below us. I absently wondered if anything would catch from it.
You looked at me and told me you loved me. I smiled, and said I loved you too; I thought you were just drunk. But you gripped my arm, touched my cheek, and told me that no, you loved me. You didn’t explain, but you didn’t have to. I could feel my cheeks burning as I said I know. I love you, too. You stared at me, and you looked so… conflicted. Lost, but found. Desperate, but hopeful. Like your whole world was exploding and imploding at the same time. You pulled me close and kissed me, and I tried not to melt like one of the countless fangirls who would’ve killed to be in my shoes.
It wasn’t until days later that I realized what you were going through that night. When you made the announcement, you tried not to look at me too much. After, you pulled me aside. I’m sorry, you said, as if begging for forgiveness, as if I was ever, could ever have been mad at you. I told you that, and that I still loved you, and that I always would. You kissed me a second time, and it tasted like salty tears. I couldn’t tell if they were happy or sad, or maybe both.
I’ll keep my jealousy close,
‘Cause it’s all mine.
And if you say you’re happy
Then I’m not the only one lying.
Four years and two babies later, and nothing changed. Our business grew, we made our own record label and put out an album and an ep, we toured the globe… but things between us stayed the same. We didn’t talk about those two kisses, or what we’d said. I wanted to be hurt, but I knew you had your role to play, and so did I. Even if I hated it.
Every interview when some DJ or newscaster or internet “journalist” asked you about being a married man, I watched as you put on an almost convincing smile and lie through your perfect teeth. Of course you were happy. You loved Natalie. You’d known from the moment you saw her you wanted to be with her forever. You weren’t a crier, but when she walked down the aisle you just couldn’t help yourself.
At least that last part was true. It’s just a shame you weren’t weeping tears of joy at your beautiful blushing bride. But you had to play the part. I understood that. And so I put on a less convincing smile, and said how happy for you I was. Every time, you’d shoot me the same sad smile, a silent apology and thanks. As if I had any choice.
Keep quiet,
Nothing comes as easy as you.
Can I lay in your bed all day?
I’ll be your best kept secret
And your biggest mistake.
The hand behind this pen relives
A failure every day.
I still don’t know what made you break. Maybe it wasn’t anything in particular, just something that was bound to happen eventually. We were on a different continent, I can’t remember which. You called me, asked me to come to your room one night. When I got there you looked like hell, eyes red and voice hoarse. I can’t do this anymore, you told me. I knew what you meant, and if I hadn’t, the way you kissed me explained it all.
I let you pull me in and lead me to the bed. I had an idea what we were doing, but no practical experience. You didn’t seem to mind though, guiding me every step of the way. I was surprised how responsive you were to my touch; it felt strange, almost scary to have that much control over you. I tried to enjoy every second, but it was too new, too much, and you were everything I’d ever wanted.
I woke up the next morning, our limbs still tangled together. I watched the sun rise, watched the light filtering through the curtains creep across the floor until it made you bury your head under the covers. I wanted to lay like that forever, but I knew that wasn’t possible. I tried not to wake you as I got dressed, and I almost made it. You said my name just as my hand was on the door. You gave me that same look, the grateful apology, then turned over and went back to sleep.
It was always like that from then on. No one suspected a thing, because we never gave them a chance to. Only at hotels, and I always was back in my room before morning. The fans joked around and made rumors, but those weren’t based on anything other than typical fandom fantasies. You were a devoted husband who hardly even looked at other girls. And I was still the goofy Hanson, never taking anything seriously.
Maybe I should’ve said something. I don’t have a clue what, or when. But sometimes I wonder if things would be different if I’d just spoken up. Probably not; it’s not like we could ever really be a couple. But maybe we could’ve stopped this before it started. Or maybe I could’ve talked you out of getting an obnoxious fan knocked up. It’s something I’ll never stop thinking about, no matter how hard I try.
So wear me like a locket
Around your throat.
I’ll weigh you down,
I’ll watch you choke.
You look so good in blue.
You look so good in blue…
I know it’s killing you. I can see it in the lines around your eyes, in your always-lessening smile. Whether it’s your love for me, or your lack of love for your wife, or just being forced to live a lie. I have a feeling it’s me, at least in part. I wish I knew how to make it better, to make it stop. But we’ve been at this too long to quit now. I wouldn’t even know how if I wanted to.
What’s even worse is how well melancholy suits you. It’s like all your tragedies have only made you more beautiful. Like a porcelain vase, its fragility what makes it so valuable. And you are fragile, whether you know it or not. I can see the cracks forming, and I don’t know how to keep them from spreading. Sooner or later you’re going to break. And I wish I could look away, but I can’t. Not when I’m to blame.
So for now we keep going like nothing’s wrong. We still have our secret affairs, you still have your picture-perfect family, and no one knows any better. It hurts sometimes, realizing that I’m the only one who can hear you screaming. But maybe that’s because I’m so tuned into you. Or maybe you’re only screaming to me. I can’t help you, but I can go down that road with you. And if you crash and burn, I’ll be right there, because honestly it’s where I’ve always needed to be.
Lyrics (and title) are from 'Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner' by Fall Out Boy.
Drink down that gin and kerosene,
And come spit on bridges with me
Just to keep us warm.
Light a match to leave me be.
Your mouth tasted like cigarettes and cheap vodka the first time we kissed. We were in LA, trying to finish our third album. You said you were going for a drive, and I asked to tag along. It was almost your birthday, but I still hadn’t gotten you anything. I figured maybe you’d let a hint slip about what you wanted.
We drove out of the city, picking a random back highway. It was afternoon when we left, but the sun was setting by the time we stopped. There was a place to pull off, some kind of scenic vista or something where you could see the whole city skyline. I remember you grabbing a bottle from under your seat and getting out of the car.
I followed you right to the edge; you leaned against the wooden fence like you were sure it wouldn’t break. Looking back, maybe you just didn’t care. You took a swig from the bottle, thought about it, and offered me a sip. I shrugged and said why not. I asked what we were celebrating, and you laughed. It sounded a lot like a sob. You looked out over the landscape below, finished what was in the bottle, and tossed it. I listened for the crash of shattering glass; you smiled when you heard it.
We stood there until the orange sky turned violet, then indigo. You smoked one of your cigarettes, the fancy kind that smelled spicy and sweet. I’ve always like the smell of them, maybe because they remind me so much of you. When the stub threatened to burn your fingers you flicked it away, the tiny glow disappearing in the darkness below us. I absently wondered if anything would catch from it.
You looked at me and told me you loved me. I smiled, and said I loved you too; I thought you were just drunk. But you gripped my arm, touched my cheek, and told me that no, you loved me. You didn’t explain, but you didn’t have to. I could feel my cheeks burning as I said I know. I love you, too. You stared at me, and you looked so… conflicted. Lost, but found. Desperate, but hopeful. Like your whole world was exploding and imploding at the same time. You pulled me close and kissed me, and I tried not to melt like one of the countless fangirls who would’ve killed to be in my shoes.
It wasn’t until days later that I realized what you were going through that night. When you made the announcement, you tried not to look at me too much. After, you pulled me aside. I’m sorry, you said, as if begging for forgiveness, as if I was ever, could ever have been mad at you. I told you that, and that I still loved you, and that I always would. You kissed me a second time, and it tasted like salty tears. I couldn’t tell if they were happy or sad, or maybe both.
I’ll keep my jealousy close,
‘Cause it’s all mine.
And if you say you’re happy
Then I’m not the only one lying.
Four years and two babies later, and nothing changed. Our business grew, we made our own record label and put out an album and an ep, we toured the globe… but things between us stayed the same. We didn’t talk about those two kisses, or what we’d said. I wanted to be hurt, but I knew you had your role to play, and so did I. Even if I hated it.
Every interview when some DJ or newscaster or internet “journalist” asked you about being a married man, I watched as you put on an almost convincing smile and lie through your perfect teeth. Of course you were happy. You loved Natalie. You’d known from the moment you saw her you wanted to be with her forever. You weren’t a crier, but when she walked down the aisle you just couldn’t help yourself.
At least that last part was true. It’s just a shame you weren’t weeping tears of joy at your beautiful blushing bride. But you had to play the part. I understood that. And so I put on a less convincing smile, and said how happy for you I was. Every time, you’d shoot me the same sad smile, a silent apology and thanks. As if I had any choice.
Keep quiet,
Nothing comes as easy as you.
Can I lay in your bed all day?
I’ll be your best kept secret
And your biggest mistake.
The hand behind this pen relives
A failure every day.
I still don’t know what made you break. Maybe it wasn’t anything in particular, just something that was bound to happen eventually. We were on a different continent, I can’t remember which. You called me, asked me to come to your room one night. When I got there you looked like hell, eyes red and voice hoarse. I can’t do this anymore, you told me. I knew what you meant, and if I hadn’t, the way you kissed me explained it all.
I let you pull me in and lead me to the bed. I had an idea what we were doing, but no practical experience. You didn’t seem to mind though, guiding me every step of the way. I was surprised how responsive you were to my touch; it felt strange, almost scary to have that much control over you. I tried to enjoy every second, but it was too new, too much, and you were everything I’d ever wanted.
I woke up the next morning, our limbs still tangled together. I watched the sun rise, watched the light filtering through the curtains creep across the floor until it made you bury your head under the covers. I wanted to lay like that forever, but I knew that wasn’t possible. I tried not to wake you as I got dressed, and I almost made it. You said my name just as my hand was on the door. You gave me that same look, the grateful apology, then turned over and went back to sleep.
It was always like that from then on. No one suspected a thing, because we never gave them a chance to. Only at hotels, and I always was back in my room before morning. The fans joked around and made rumors, but those weren’t based on anything other than typical fandom fantasies. You were a devoted husband who hardly even looked at other girls. And I was still the goofy Hanson, never taking anything seriously.
Maybe I should’ve said something. I don’t have a clue what, or when. But sometimes I wonder if things would be different if I’d just spoken up. Probably not; it’s not like we could ever really be a couple. But maybe we could’ve stopped this before it started. Or maybe I could’ve talked you out of getting an obnoxious fan knocked up. It’s something I’ll never stop thinking about, no matter how hard I try.
So wear me like a locket
Around your throat.
I’ll weigh you down,
I’ll watch you choke.
You look so good in blue.
You look so good in blue…
I know it’s killing you. I can see it in the lines around your eyes, in your always-lessening smile. Whether it’s your love for me, or your lack of love for your wife, or just being forced to live a lie. I have a feeling it’s me, at least in part. I wish I knew how to make it better, to make it stop. But we’ve been at this too long to quit now. I wouldn’t even know how if I wanted to.
What’s even worse is how well melancholy suits you. It’s like all your tragedies have only made you more beautiful. Like a porcelain vase, its fragility what makes it so valuable. And you are fragile, whether you know it or not. I can see the cracks forming, and I don’t know how to keep them from spreading. Sooner or later you’re going to break. And I wish I could look away, but I can’t. Not when I’m to blame.
So for now we keep going like nothing’s wrong. We still have our secret affairs, you still have your picture-perfect family, and no one knows any better. It hurts sometimes, realizing that I’m the only one who can hear you screaming. But maybe that’s because I’m so tuned into you. Or maybe you’re only screaming to me. I can’t help you, but I can go down that road with you. And if you crash and burn, I’ll be right there, because honestly it’s where I’ve always needed to be.
Lyrics (and title) are from 'Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner' by Fall Out Boy.
