lost my sweet boy
He's not dead.
He's just buried under the days we lost growing up.
I miss my sweet boy
He's not lost.
Just running from the idea of something he chose to run from - to forget.
He is no longer my sweet boy.
The Sweetness turned sour as I tried taking another bite
The Boy grew bitter as the taste drips from my tongue
The warmth of him grew grim as his hands twisted from warm to frozen in seconds
The last tear of the affection I had changed to nothing more than ash at my grasp
He used to meet me in the soft hours, between childhood and hope - now he only visits in echoes.
Half-formed.
Half-gone.
Half of the boy I loved
and none of the man he'd become.
Mar 15
Mar 15, 2026 at 9:57 PM UTC
lost my sweet boy
He's not dead.
He's just buried under the days we lost growing up.
I miss my sweet boy
He's not lost.
Just running from the idea of something he chose to run from - to forget.
He is no longer my sweet boy.
The Sweetness turned sour as I tried taking another bite
The Boy grew bitter as the taste drips from my tongue
The warmth of him grew grim as his hands twisted from warm to frozen in seconds
The last tear of the affection I had changed to nothing more than ash at my grasp
He used to meet me in the soft hours, between childhood and hope - now he only visits in echoes.
Half-formed.
Half-gone.
Half of the boy I loved
and none of the man he'd become.
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