you don’t have to be strong all the time.
even kings get weary and worn.
you can come home to me, drop your keys at the door, kick your shoes off, and bury your face in my lap as i stroke your face and cover you with kisses.
we don’t have to say a word. just come close and recharge and reboot and restore. you carry the weight of the world from 9-5. my lap is your home. my arms are your throne.
we’re all alright.
king (future reference for my loving boyfriend).