You’ve always been a lion boy to me.
Walking through the halls with a cat’s grace, throwing my insults right back in my face.
You ruled the classrooms sprawling on your throne, a red and black chair, lazing as the teacher spoke as if you didn’t care.
You were fearless they said, and one day that recklessness would make you end up dead.
You conquered the boys with one sharp grin, and they never challenged you again.
But you never could conquer me, because I’ll always remain free.
You’re a lion boy, a golden boy, but you should know I can read people better than that.
Because I see a broken boy, a dark boy, who wants to destroy.
But they see you as their lion king, the golden boy of everything.
You capture girls hearts with just one action, and spar with words with me because it is fun.
You’re a lion boy, or so they whisper, but while you have their devetion, me you will never conquer.
So tell me what it is like to burn, and smolder, as my bullet-sharp words hit your shoulder.
You may be their lion boy, you’ve never been mine.
And you never the huntress, underneath my sheep’s skin.