And devoured you whole,
Not stopping for your permission or your words.
The lack of innocence was magical for the moment,
But after the sparkles fell upon bare concrete floors
You found how hard it is to sweep up confetti.
The party was ruined because he helped ruin you,
Such a miserable anchor for trust, only to let loose and send you into a lonely ocean of mess.
He was your light house, the sole reason you were sailing,
Now he laughs on the beach with his feet deep in the warm sand that should be yours.
No explanations, no second chances,
He guided, directed, and then left;
Crunching your cocoon in his teeth
So that you could see it
And turn green every time he smiled.
What happened to the responsibility of making someone a person?
Why is it fine now, in an age of television attention spans and polarized moral compasses,
For the romantics to always be the punch line?
We laugh and smirk, because we have to, how things are;
All the while waiting for the rest of us to flutter by enlightened
—because that’s hope—but they just build new cocoons,
Alone and deeper, so the next one to try and capture them
Has to fight so hard and hungrily that nothing could save the day.
Save for another romantic.
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