Every time you see a beanie,
Your heart skips a beat—
Not in the way that makes you feel alive.
It stutters, hesitates,
As if it might stop altogether.

It turns to stone, heavy and cold,
Sinking deep into your chest
Holding you down like Excalibur in the stone
To the past you’ve tried to leave behind.

A simple thing, a beanie,
It carries the weight of memories,
Of moments you can’t outrun.
You feel the ache of what once was,
A reminder of what you’re still trying to forget,
The stone that continues to grow heavier.