he said i look more like an
iris than anything else
(and i couldn't help but think
how right he was, and how ironic
that he doesn't even have any idea
who i am)

The way you speak is poetic
I get lost in your words
I lose track of time
When I watch your lips
form every beautiful Rhyme,
                                as if they were
                                to kiss my skin
                               (a thought I dream of)
                                            the way you move
                                             couldn't be described
                                just being written
every thing about you
might be imperfect
but not to me
my mind will wander
but it will never neglect
the thought of your
*poetic lips on me

Covered in sweat,
hairs a mess,
lying between the curb and the pavement,
spewing out the alphabet in cursive
saying things you'll regret in the morning
making crowns out of cardboard beer boxes
because you think you're the ******* king,
news flash
you're just another kid to everyone else
you're not special
you're not any better than anyone else
because you can hold down your liquor longer
than the girl in the ripped white jeans
or the college boy who's been doing this since he was sixteen.
you're no better than anyone else
because you stay up until five in the morning,
forgetting how you got from one place to the other,
but oh wait sorry
I forgot we're young and this is what makes you you
I forgot that this was what you gave me up to do.
So I hope this makes you feel important,
I hope it replaces all the warmth I thought I was giving you
I hope it was worth hurting me for,
I hope it was worth trashing all that belief I put in you,
when you used to be my king
I hope the sweat sticks, the concrete cracks, you break your own heart
and I hope you wear your crown like the king you are.