early on, when you’re both young he looks like a god. older maybe, and there’s bolder songs to be sung, and he can do that. he does that, too, unabashed. this is how his world works. and he plucks on heartstrings, and leaves them damaged. except: time is the enemy he can’t outrun, ever. it catches him up and he’s least expecting it, and leaves him damaged. and in the end, this god-boy you loved so dear is done. and in a blur of nothing, he’s gone, and just like that you see: he was just a boy all along.
About the Author:
Sarah Little is a sometimes-poet who scribbles when she remembers and gets tetchy when she goes too long without writing. Her work has appeared in Pink Plastic Dollhouse, Perhappened Mag, and Mineral Lit, among others. Her first poetry micro-chapbook, Snapshots was published with Broken Sleep Books in July 2019. Social media is @poetessarah on Twitter and Instagram.
This piece is part of Issue Two: CHRONOS. Read more like it here.