romeo, oh romeo, wherefore art thou?

you, young waverer, why are you romeo? from what empty void do your lies come from? tell me, young waverer, how do you fill it with teaspoons?

your eyes are so crisply blue, young waverer, so intensely cold as they turn me away.

you simply must dramaticize everything, everyone, young romeo. you must profess your love to your rosaline, your juliet, the woman at the end of the bar because of course, what would your heart do without it? mercutio did say, dreamers often lie.

forgiveness was a daze i could not snap out of.

wherefore art thou, romeo? wherefore art thou a liar?