there’s a pretty boy in your apartment
There’s a pretty boy in your apartment
There’s a pretty boy in your apartment and you’re in your bathroom, washing your face and trying to brush your teeth quiet enough that he can’t hear. There’s a pretty boy in your apartment and he’s sitting on your dirty old couch and you’re trying to believe he finds your messiness charming instead of unstable. There’s a pretty boy in your apartment and he held the door for you like you were a princess and he stopped you from falling down your stairs with one hand that seared so much heat into your skin that it must be branded there even now, an hour later. And he’s been in your apartment millions of times but somehow, someway, this time feels different.
There’s a pretty boy in your room
There’s a pretty boy in your room and you don’t know what to do. He looks at you with so much tenderness and joy that it makes your heart ache and you know you don’t deserve it. There’s a pretty boy in your room and he’s looking at your knickknacks and you’re knock-kneed nervous that his laughing is serious when he picks up a train whistle from a flea market. You’re embarrassed and try to put it away but his smile shows dimples and you know he’s enjoying himself and just trying to make you laugh. There’s a pretty boy in your room and you’re fidgeting because you’re so in love with him and you don’t know how to say it in ways that aren’t pleasantries and wry looks and small touches and “get home safe!”s. There’s a pretty boy in your room and you know the world stops and starts again in his eyes and it wouldn’t matter if a bomb fell on you right now because you’re already so warm you’d hardly feel the heat and at least when future archeologists dig you up they’d call you lovers even if it wasn’t entirely true. There’s a pretty boy in your room and you know he doesn’t love you in the same way you love him and that he never will but that’s okay because his eyes spell a different feeling and suddenly you’re ten years old and taking a nap outside in the sun and no one can hurt you. And you’re so warm. And you’re so safe. And you’ve never been so happy. And what else is love?
There’s a beautiful boy in your room and you’re thanking God you made your bed.