Get my boat so I may go to the mountain top,
To thy enemies Infront of thee flee,
On their carpets they go away from their home,
From all they have ever known,
Wayward unto the sea, down many leagues they flee,
Away from the wrath of ye and me,
To the Mariana trench we cannot see,
Is the destination to their journey,
Upon which we will sojourn,
And deeply yearn,
All there is to learn.

i still do not know
whether i am a void of feelings
or just a child who shut the door to his pain.

lest you shatter

sometimes it feels like the only way not to cling
is not to care.

don't you find it funny
how desperate we are to feel?
— what a great story!
(i cried eleven times)

he burns his lamps to hide
just a couple heartbeats —
a couple each night.
a couple blue shots of bad blood
they say it does the trick.

we, others, them, think we're lost, broken, and afraid
is it so wrong to find our own way in the darkness
is it so long to put the pieces back together in a new fashion
it takes a great amount of fear to do these things

it takes an immense amount of courage to believe in them

see, she was
she was an ocean.
say, oxygen
oxygen is overrated.

watch, roses
blooming beneath
the caress of brine
blood cells unfolding.

a certain lightness

life is a melody, a meandering song, exquisite and jarring, glorious and ruthless. we sit upon its strings, tightropes in a windstorm. better dance whilst you can before we all fall off into eternity.

you know,
the more i have to say
the less i end up saying.
i want to live our life again
so i told you
i love you.