“The boy in the oversized crown
Stands with the world on his back
Like a coat two sizes too small.
This is the moment you realize you’ve never
Woken up next to someone you were actually
In love with.
That your patron saint is a boy
With tissue paper hands
And wrought-iron ribs like they were meant
For holding birds in.
The cupid’s bow of your lips
Was always meant for harp chords,
Wasn’t it?
They taught you to sling arrows
Instead of songs, and you thought them wise.
And him? He makes promises.
Beautiful things, tucked away behind his teeth
Like they’re waiting for you to find them.
I know nothing of the Ides of March
But I know a sinking ship
Better than I know my own heart.
This boy will break.
And when the water pours in,
It will kiss him like his mother never did
And it will be years before the tide
Brings him back to the shore.
It’s okay to love a drowning man,
But do not step into the water beside him.
Remember, you were born with feet,
Not with fins.
And treading water can go on for years
But it has to end.”
-
Disillusioned, by Ashe Vernon (via latenightcornerstore)