formerly: romeo+juliet | now: compartmentaleyezd

dear everyone i ever knew
to whom it may concern is
to whom i may concern and
to whom this may concern is
you.




romeo and juliet met under the sea. fingertips touched and bubbles escaped from corners of smiles. pure until they couldn't breathe. ethereal until they drowned.

fascination realization suffocation

they wanted to continue staring but it hurt too much. only there for a minute; it was all in their heads. two hearts had never beat so fast.




ankles and anvils are a

foolish devious determined

mix next to bodies of water. you're 90% of what engulfs you

the tide the waves the weight

red stripe pinched skin cool burn and you're gone. sink until your lungs give out and that's giving in and that's giving up. you are your own darkness, you dig your own trench, and the anvil is shackled to your mental house arrest bracelet.

goodbye slowly.




tybalt and benvolio walk into a gay bar. not supposed to because their families are naughty neighbors and their cousins died on the inside leading by example. don't care though because fuck other people and fuck what they think they know when all they know is themselves and the black spots projected onto morning breath reflections.

you want me i want you don't want me i want you don't go stay with me i want you don't want me i want this is not fair trade me for him i want you to stay with me i love you don't do this is not fair trade me for her i want you don't want me please tell me you want me i want you love

them.
them.
them.
them.
them.
them

them.

words don't exist for how i feel but i write them.




i try anyway.




meaning is meaning whether it can be communicated or not. meaning isn't always present in perfect people packages so those used to bows and wrapped boxes on holiday mornings may be in for a disappointment or two.

i'm not sorry for feeling but i'm sorry you can't understand. not sorry for feeling, not sorry you won't understand. there's a point when it's my eyes and my heartbeat and my trust and if you don't have faith in that you don't have faith in me.




is aching like snowflakes, is it special or is it all the same. if it's all the same why doesn't the medicine always work and why do some people jump and some don't and why can some people stop cutting while others dig deeper. dunno which category i'm in yet but i see beautiful things that i want and i can't have them because i know they'll shatter.

you're a riedel, i'm a bed of nails.

i've got the midas touch.




there's a war in my head and behind that a debate. civil discourse is for the birds, we're going all out baby. there is a tide in the affairs of me and it's soul and it's just about all washed up.