When my Juliet calls, and my soul is weary.
I briefly fold, and long to follow that path I can't attempt.
Sweet dagger, pierce my heart, and let our embrace shake the stars,
But the will to live wins over a world without a Capulet

It's the hardest decision that I'm never going to get,
because the path of least resistance is
the path I can't accept.
It's because my life is never ready.
The poison's on her lips already.
Hands are shaking, Blade is steady.
Sweet dagger, pierce my heart,
and gift to me this path of sweet regret.

      Romeo is cold and weary,
     Oblivion is singing cheery
                 Songs for
            what he longs for
             and the night;
             and the blade
              shines alight
with blood so cold and wet.

She sets fire to everything she touches,
I think as my mind burns.
I can't have anything, she takes it away.
Engulfs it. Entraps it.
Monopolizes it.
I can't have anything of my own.
I am sent spiraling into a retrograde.
Screaming at her to stop
as I try to grab the things out of my
burning house.
"DON'T TOUCH THIS, DON'T TOUCH THIS DON'T TOU--"
Everything she touches turns to ember.
She will ruin everything I love.
I just need to hold on to one thing.
Anything.
She sets fire to everything that is mine!*
My mind burns.
I scramble to save anything I can salvage
as the flames bellow in
and the smoke engulfs the room.
"COME BEFORE THE FIRE GETS TO YOU.
DON'T TOUCH IT, DONT TOUCH IT, DONT TOUCH--"
It's a race between me and the flames
as they dance around the floor, walls,
ceiling.
The room is swallowed in smoke,
and I stagger outside
coughing and swaying.
I can't salvage anything before the entire
house burns down.
I look,
disheartened at the place where
foundation used to be.
Nothing now but rubble and wispy smoke,
knowing this would happen from the beginning.
"Look what she did," I say as I clutch the lighter.

I keep finding bullets stuck between my teeth
The same ones you bought the day you decided the ceiling would look better covered in blood.
Maybe that’s why everything I say
sounds like it’s is trying to **** me.
But what do you do
when you stand in front of a mirror
with a gun to your head
and your reflection smiles back at you?
What do you do
When you stand in the middle of a busy road
And every driver is a different version of yourself you’ve tried to ****.
Every version of yourself
No one could love.
My mother used to get in fist fights with the mirror and expect to win
She says I look just like her
Maybe that’s why I wake up and can’t recognize who I am.
I checked the obituaries this morning
Trying to find myself again
It’s a habit I picked up from you
But I never thought your name would end up there before mine.
Sometimes I imagine what death feels like
Sometimes I imagine kissing you instead
By now it feels like I’m imagining the same thing.
Someone once told me that begging you to come home
Isn’t the same as praying
Maybe that’s why God stopped listening
and started smashing the windows of every place I thought we could be happy in.
Your smile looked a lot like the light at the end of the tunnel
Right before the train hits you.
I used to squint my eyes when I looked at you
Like I was looking at the sun
Or a car accident I wanted to be part of
I’m sorry I ever thought you could be anything ugly to me
You were the only beautiful thing in this hideous place.
I couldn't look at you clearly,
because I knew I would see my own face staring back at me and
your eyes were the only place I never wanted to be dead inside of.
You can only break your knuckles so many times
Before you cant hold yourself together anymore.
My hands haven’t stopped shaking since you left
I don’t know how to tell them you’re not coming back.
See, I used to say I never wanted to end up like my father
Now I have to say I never want to end up like you,
Which means I can’t leave without saying goodbye
But I tried to write my eulogy last night
And realized it's hard to write about someone I never knew.

I remember when I looked
into your blue green eyes
and saw you staring into his:
sky blue.
I used to imagine us gazing at
the pale blue of the sky
as it turned from amber,
to orange,
to red,
to purple,
to black,
and then watching the stars together.
Counting out I love yous in the constellations.

Then I looked up and saw you;

And I realized the only sky you'd ever see
was trapped in his eyes.
(And ******* were they pretty.
But ******* did it hurt.)