There’s this kid right?
All tacky with gold draped over his arms, wrapped around his throat like a noose he’d be happy to lend you. Skinny, brilliant, center of every room he steps into like he can’t control his charm.
And hey, you can’t blame him, you smothered the sweet southern boy you once were in leather and blood and it looks like he’s done the same with his decor. Looks like he knows what it’s like to run still dripping saltwater and blood from the only place you’ve known.
But you grew into your leather, you learned you can take off the suffocating mask sometimes but he’s standing there laughing in the spotlight and you can see his ribs through his clean white shirt.
And maybe it’s because he’s almost vanishes without his gold that you start to drape your jacket over him when he’s asleep on the couch, maybe it’s because he has the stupidest smile when it’s genuine that you run down bikers for him. Maybe you love him too much when you hold his hands close to your heart and tell him it doesn’t matter whether he’s molten gold or flaking gilt.
It’s worth it when he kisses you, worth it when he hangs a slim gold chain around your neck, worth it when he disregards everyone who swarms him to dance with you.
Worth it when he’s curled up next to you, and you leave your mask next to his jewelry on the bedside table and you breathe together in the dark