S.Y. Liu

I could be writing right now

about fairytales;

princesses, and dragons,

magic, and the prince that comes to save her.

But life isn't a fairytale for anybody, 

so why write about them?

O Romeo

my love

my life

my savior

I speaketh through my metaphors

I whisper my lies

Romeo, my dearest Romeo

sing to me, keepest me alight

this night 

the light is a milky, silvery blue 

cascading down from the sky

in rays that look like liquid silk

dripping off tree branches 

and coating the world in a cool, heavenly glow 

Benedict, the bound jester,

Laughing in a world of chains,

Painted smiles, velvet nightmares,

Dancing just to hide the pain.

Bells are ringing, crowds are cheering,

But he hears a different sound,

my eyes open slowly.

my bedroom is full of sunlight, 

highlighting the hay yellow paint.

the comforter hugs me gently.

a day like most days.

She used to smile.

She used to laugh.

She used to not care.

She still smiled and laughed,

but it wasn't real.

She used to not care but then she did.

When did it start?