The First Thing One Should Paint/ Are The EYES

Golden-Tipped
Like Yours
Is exactly what I seek.

Come make me GASP.

Draw in purple on my skin
To the sound of crumpling plastic cups.

Spray-paint the shit out of me
In silver and in gold.

Hang me up on the wall of your soul.

Run by me again.
Let's start rumors of our own -
Because with me in the picture/ it just looks a damn better.

I'll give you a guitar pick alright
Yeah, I'm talking to YOU.

Because Golden-Tipped like yours
Is what I seek.

***

I am I am I am. Like Sylvia Plath's "The Bell Jar". But different. I am. I. Am.

...what, exactly? Not a name, not a word. "What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other word would smell as sweet," said Juliet to Romeo.

What's. In. A. Name?

Ugly. The Name in question is ugly. It sounds like a particularly nasty STD. It makes me sick.

But that which it represents, is not. That which it represents is... beautiful. I like it and I'm drawn to it and I ache for it and I want it and I'm getting it and it makes me throb with mad desires and it has everything to do with a pair of certain golden-tipped eyelashes from back in the days when the Name scared me. When the Name felt alien, like death - could happen to others and did, but not to me. Never to me.

I guess Romeo makes all the difference. Poor Romeo, for having to wait. Poor Romeo, for being merely a distraction from the Name. Poor Romeo, for falling so hopelessly in love with Juliet, when Juliet was actually looking elsewhere. My Juliet, at least.

My Juliet is falling for the Name.

My Juliet is scared by the Name.

My Juliet wants a fresh start where she can chase after the Name. Forget Romeo, forget Paris - hell, even forget about Mercutio!

Juliet died because of love. Too much love. But not for Romeo, no. Not even for herself. Juliet didn't even get to taste the reason for her death.

I sure hope my Juliet gets what she's after.