blocked on snapchat.

call no call back.

trying to stomach a generation

we seasoned and simmered

to taste

exactly

like that.

its twenty eighteen

where names on screens

seems to be all

we really are.

im not writing to complain

about how much time i spend

editing instagram photos

or carefully composing tweets.

im writing to tell you

i used to romanticize the push and pull

of the ocean

before i nearly drowned in it

the first time we met.

sometimes i

feel like the ocean-

like the unexplainable void

of everything and nothing.

a too deep to dive in

body of beauty you long for

until you’re swimming

and wish for the sand.

soft to the touch

but salty to the taste.

better in photos.

better from afar.

double tap

text back

who can blame us for trying to be someone

who doesn’t care about

that?

im writing to apologize

for living life posted behind partitions.

my armor, my shield,

and my weapon-

all at once.