i gave the key to my heart to a boy a few years ago. he still wears it around his neck. though it’s not the key that you might think - large, clunky. brash. it’s small, insignificant looking & brittle, with the handle to my emotions on one end & the touch of my lips on another. it dangles perilously from a thin chain not designed to hold it’s weight - unlike the safe, secure one, that i’ve led people to believe.
i gave the key to my heart to a boy a few years ago, wrapped in words. they told him i would ask for it back one day, when i’d found a neck worthy of holding its burdens. but that he was to keep it safe until then. maybe one day i’ll travel back over the ocean & slip it back into the lock on my heart.
i hope that i still know of you when i’m older. what became of you, my friends.

i gave the key to my heart to a boy a few years ago. he still wears it around his neck. though it’s not the key that you might think - large, clunky. brash. it’s small, insignificant looking & brittle, with the handle to my emotions on one end & the touch of my lips on another. it dangles perilously from a thin chain not designed to hold it’s weight - unlike the safe, secure one, that i’ve led people to believe.

i gave the key to my heart to a boy a few years ago, wrapped in words. they told him i would ask for it back one day, when i’d found a neck worthy of holding its burdens. but that he was to keep it safe until then. maybe one day i’ll travel back over the ocean & slip it back into the lock on my heart.

i hope that i still know of you when i’m older. what became of you, my friends.