My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

“The voices in his head called the rain to end our days of wild”

Rain arrives as the summoned end of a golden spell. The voices in the lover's head call it down to close the days of wildness, the weather conscripted to finish off what was bright.

“Rivulets descend my plastic smile”

Tears run down a smile described as plastic, the fixed performed expression failing to hold what it conceals.