c0ldbl4kl0ve

When I walk into the studio, I feel the need for music. I make a beeline for the small stereo that is squashed into the corner of the room and flip it on. I turn towards the canvas that I’m working on and prepare my paints. But as I’m mixing the light blue, the music makes me stop.

 

If heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied

Illuminate the ‘no’s on their vacancy signs

If there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks,

Then I’ll follow you into the dark.

[I Will Follow You Into the Dark by Death Cab for Cutie (p) Atlantic Recording Corp.]

 

I can feel the tears starting to form. Quickly, I brush them away and turn back to the painting. And, as I stare at it, inspiration comes.

 

I grab my brush and get to work. Furiously making strokes on the canvas, splattering paint all over my clothes and skin; blues, yellows, and blacks cling to my jeans and shirt. But I don’t care. The only thing that I care about is finishing the painting.

 

With each stroke that I make on the canvas, tears pour down my face. Getting faster and faster until I can barely see what I’m doing. I don’t need to see what I’m painting though, I already know the subject by heart.

 

I don’t look at the finished painting. I exit the building and run to my car. The chilly New York air burns my lungs as I jump into the jeep and peel out of my parking space. However, I don’t turn on the heat. I watch my breath mist and cloud the car, feeling the tears still silently creeping down my face.

 

When I get onto the highway, I start to hyperventilate. I attempt to take deep gulps of air but the world is closing in. I don’t catch my breath until I’ve passed the city limit.

 

The tires screech as I turn onto Tremont and hurriedly park my car. I rush up the stairs to the sliding door that I’ve come to know over the past 6 years. This is the first time that I’ve felt unable to open it. Instead I pound on the door, hoping that he is inside.

 

There’s a scuffling noise and I hear him swear. The roar of the door hinge seems louder than ever. Then I’m in his arms, sobbing and burying my face into the crook of his neck.

 

“Hey. Hey, it’s ok. Shhhh. Its all ok. You’re fucking here. Why are you fucking here?”

 

“I – I made a mistake.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Do you forgive me?”

 

“No apologies, no regrets”

“This is no apology.”

 

“Just come in.”

 

“I love you Brian.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too much more lesbianic please – you might kill me.”

 

“Take me back.”

 

“You were never gone.”

 

There is a painting that hangs in the office of Brian Kinney. It’s of two people. Surrounded by darkness. Separated. And yet, they seem to be connected by a swirl of electric blue and a thread of sunshine yellow.

 

Under the painting, there is a plaque telling people that the title of the painting is “Follow.” Along with the title, the plaque has a personal note. “I will follow you. For life is only time and love is forever.” The signature at the bottom of the painting is in bright yellow: JTaylor ’06.

One day we will meet again

At the gates of our lives great end

This coffin before you is simply a cell

This grave that you see here is all just a lie

I am here, right beside you

I did not die

The winter chill burns

Breath comes in a shaky gasp

One last dying breath.

 

 

A sword falls to ground

A white flag is raised in air

All hail kind of dead.

We are all trying to find a

Life on this earth this

Poisoned and

Tainted earth.

And yet we

Fight we

Are imprisoned, enslaved

Starved, beaten,

Tested, poisoned,

And tainted

Souls.

 

This cruelty is all

Too much it makes you want to

Cry

But tears are

Poison

They are weakness and

Soon tears dry

For there is no room in this

Godforsaken place for

Tears. Tears are poisoned

Tainted.

 

They are no longer flesh

They are

Bone

Poking in abnormal

Directions as they

Work. Forced to block out their feelings and

Minds their tainted horrible

Minds that have brought corruption

To no one and yet

They are punished for creating

Poisoned

Tainted.

 

Their bodies burn

Their cold and

Clammy hands are

Translucent

The fire dances as

They are pushed into the

Place where all

Poisoned and tainted must go

Inferno.

The burners see this as

A reflection of those

Who burn

These men and

Women were

Poisoned

Tainted

This is where they are supposed to go.

 

Over 6 million.

They say we’ve changed.

Over 6 million

We’ve learned new things

Over 6 million

We know better now

Over 6 million

We haven’t changed

Over 6 million

We still discriminate

Over 6 million

People are STILL dying

Over 6 million

We still find

Poisoned and

Tainted.

Over 6 million

Isn’t that enough?

 

It hEals it tearS

It comForts it sCares

It is appallinG and yet yEarned for

If you Find it you want moRe

DespisED or venErated

It is cleaR that, in thE end

LovE is what holdS us together

LovE is what breaks us forEveR

With eyes ocher and sprinkled with gold

You hold a wisdom that has seems so old

It captivates all who stop and stare

To admire your browning mop of hair

 

Your muscles ripple as your run

And your fur glistens in the sun

Joy comes to all who can see

The beauty that is found in thee

 

Oh to watch your glorious dance

To watch your fellows follow and prance

Majesty not fit for this cruel, cruel world

And beauty only you can hold

 

If we were ever to be like you

Would you allow us to prove ourselves true?

We would follow with you at the head

And go with you to the worlds end

 

 

It is a comforting feeling

When you are scared and alone

And there is no other being

To stay with you at home

 

This cloak of darkness

Of love and of hate

Shows that you are their weakness

You are the loving fate

 

Smooth and Submissive

Rough and demanding
Your shrouds are protective

And keep us standing

 

Day after day you help to heal my plight

Proving you are and always will be my sweet, gentle night

 

You bring peace into my life

Keeping reality in View

A small part of me

Wishes I could always be with you.

 

In such a chaotic life

So hard is it to breathe

And often times I wish That Death would make me take my leave.

 

This cold and empty body

Imprisons me in it’s cell

One slive and then I’m free to live

But two makes me feel well.

 

The blood runs down my wrists

And gives me vindication

For all I’d ever wan to know

Is yours to give on this occasion.

 

The revelation’s there and gone

With each cut that is made

I yearn for the pain so that

My love is surely displayed.

 

And this, dear Razor

Is the reason why I love you so

You tie me to the world right here

The only one I know.

Plump

Umber

Mushy

Pie

Knows

It will

Not survive

 

People’s

Immoderate

eating

i have more but it'd be way too much to post - this already is epic.

It’s been a year since I last saw Brian Aiden Kinney.

Are you coming or going?

I wonder if he ever thinks of me.

Or coming then going?

I think of him all the time.

Or coming then staying?

But then again. It’s only time.

Staying

Staying

Staying

With you.

 

We were going to get married once.

Coming

Coming

Coming

Coming or…

But then I went to New York.

Going

Going

Going

Gone.

 

We tried to keep in touch.

Are you coming or going?

It worked for a while.

Or coming then going?

But then it got harder.

Or coming then staying?

So I came back.

Staying

Staying

Staying

Here.

 

But it kept getting harder.

Coming

Coming

Coming

Coming or…

The world did not approve.

Going

Going

Going

Gone.

 

Fate once again turned on us.

Are you coming or going?

It just had to be us.

Or coming then going?

We got no breaks.

Or coming then staying?

Life isn’t fair.

Staying

Staying

Staying

For good this time.

 

My mind drifts back to when we first met.

Coming

Coming

Coming

Coming or…

And I realize that I wouldn’t be here without that day.

Going

Going

Going

Gone.

 

And so I thank all of those who have conspired against us.

Are you coming or going?

For bringing us even closer together.

Or coming then going?

But I also curse those who have conspired against us.

Or coming then staying?

For bringing us even further apart.

Staying

Staying

Staying

Waiting.

 

Its been a year since I’ve seen him.

Coming

Coming

Coming

Coming or…

I miss him every day.

Going

Going

Going

Gone.

 

I wonder if he thinks of me.

Are you coming or going?

I will always love him.

Or coming then going?

Brian Aiden Kinney

Or coming then staying?

1979 – 2007

Staying

Staying

Staying

Alone.

an: srry if this is really jerky. i like how it fits though. let me know what you think!

Love is shit. It’s for all the freaks in the world that have decided that mushy feelings are what make the world go ‘round. Love isn’t for gays. Unless, of course, you’re one of those Stepford fags who are really dykes hiding behind real penises instead of dildos.

 

 So then why the fuck am I on a plane to the big apple for something other than myself? I could almost swear that the last time I had a reality check, I was NOT a Stepford fag and I sure as hell wasn’t into pussy.

 

And yet, here I am - bouncing around nervously in my seat like a jackrabbit, eagerly waiting for the plane to land. So that what? So I can finally feel the sunshine after months in the clouds?

 

 Shit, the munchers really are rubbing off on me. Yes, the dear Sunshine. The one who brightens life and makes it worth living. Worth going through hell and back. Worth giving up my precious life of freedom and 24/7 sex. Worth staining my reputation of being a hard assed bastard who has no ounce of love to give.

 

The person who made me turn my life around – instead of spiraling into becoming a complete ass, believe me I was and inch away, I became a lovesick ad exec. Lovely no? I go from fucking a new person every night to ramming the same person time after time with a couple others on the side. What a change, what a change.

 

The plane lands. I get my luggage. I walk out the door to hail a cab. But, as soon as I step out into the muggy New York weather, I’m practically bowled over by a ball of blond hair and paint.

 

“Do you know how much I’ve missed you?” I get this huge smile – I swear someday his face is gonna split. “I have some idea. I don’t usually spend a day away from myself so I’ve never missed me, but do I have some idea,” I try to crack a joke to cover up the fact that I missed him just as much.

 

“You’re bull shitting me.” He gives me this knowing look. “I know you missed me just as much as I missed you, if not more. ‘Cause you looooooooooove me! You want to kiss me,” He gives me a peck, “You almost married me!” He tugs at the chain around my neck, freeing it from my shirt and revealing two rings. “And those” he points to the rings, “are the proof!”

 

“What the fuck are you on?” “Love, dear. YOU should take it more often. Now, I do not want to wait another second. Fuck me!” “Hmmmm. I think that I like this high on love idea.” “See, I knew you would you cold bastard. Now come on. I want to get you to my new apartment so that you can bitch and moan about how shitty it is and then promptly bang me senseless.”

 

“You’re a very, very horny boy Sunshine.” “That is because I, unlike you, and still in my youth. Horny is my way of life.” I growl, “You’re gonna pay for that one sonny boy.” “Oh yes, I’ve been very naughty. Punish me grandpa.” “Someone has a senile fetish.” “Yeah, well when you look at some of the seniors in the area, it’s not hard to develop a hard on.”

 

I scoop him up and dump him unceremoniously into his little twinky car. “Briaaaaaan!” “Hey, no whining. It’s unbecoming.” “Going to be a man of perfect etiquette now are we?” “In you’re dreams!” I turn the keys in the ignition and step on the gas. “Let’s see what this piece of shit has in it.” Suddenly, I feel like a complete fool. I roll down the window. “New York City look out, Brian Kinney is in town and he is gonna FUCK YOU SENSELESS!”

 

 

AN: The first time I’ve ever written a drabble or a piece of fluff. It comes easier than I expected. Funny thing about that. Anyways, I’ll be sure to write some heavy depressing fic to counter this burst of fluffiness soon. Thanks so much for reading.

When he walks into the room, he’s cradling his hand. It’s frozen in a mangled position that looks like some sort of contortionist trick. Tears are softly pouring down his face.

 

I walk up to him and slowly reach out, grabbing his hand and massaging the muscles that have knotted up because of too much work. As his hand begins to relax, the doctors walk in. The news isn’t good. There’s nothing that can be done.

 

“I hate you. I hate you. I hate you!” He screams at the ceiling. Then he collapses into my open arms, sobs wracking his small body. “Why does all this stuff always happen to us? Why can’t it be someone else for a change?”

           

I chuckle. “Because we are survivors. We can pull through a shitty time and still end up pretty much normal. Or, at least, as normal as we can be. But as long as we have each other, we’ll pull through sunshine. We’ll pull though.”

           

“Brian…” He whispers quietly, looking up at me through tearstained eyes. “Never let me go.” He buries his head into my shoulder, his petite body fitting perfectly with my long one.

 

“Never. Never. Never.” I wrap my arms around him and inhale his scent. My eyes start to tear. “Fuck! Look at us. Any more or this and we’ll officially be lesbians.” He lets out a watery chuckle.

 

“It’s not fair.” He’s gone back into depressed mode.

 

“Life’s not fair, sonny boy. You of all people should know that.”

 

“We should get some break. Life could be nice for just once.”

 

“Life doesn’t do favours for fags. We just get to tough it or let life think we’re straight.”

 

Why I get a smile for that I have no clue. And yet I do, reminding me that life did give me one great thing.

 

“You’ll see me graduate won’t you?”

 

 After New York, Justin came back and was on track to get his degree from PIFA, with many complications due to a reoccurrence of his panic attacks caused by the reappearance of Hobbes. But he got through it. Proving yet again that he is one of the strongest and greatest homosexuals to walk the earth.

 

“There’s no possibility that I won’t.”

 

I don’t know that. He doesn’t know that. But its what we both need to hear. We don’t need to hear that the cancer is back and there’s no way of knowing when I’ll drop dead.

 

“Come on. Lets go home.”

 

On the way back to the loft, I realize something. It really is only time. As long as we can spend one more day together, life will keep on going. We will always want more time. That’s not what we’ll get. ‘Cause life’s not fair. But no matter how long we have, we’ll have each other to get through it all. Just like we’ve done through everything else.

 

“You know Sunshine? I think I finally get what ‘in sickness and in health” is supposed to mean.”

 

“Brian Kinney understanding a part of marriage?!? Somebody get help!”

 

Brian Kinney and Justin Taylor were married on May 5, 2007.

 

Justin Taylor Kinney graduated from the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Art on May 24, 2007. As he had promised, Brian was there.

 

Brian Aidan Taylor Kinney died May 25, 2007 with Justin in his arms and a smile on his face.

 

It was a simple burial. On his coffin lay a single golden gardenia. Next to it there was a bottle of Jim Beam and a copy of Captain Astro with a wrinkled cum stained photo of Patrick Swayze stuck between its pages.