i found home in your fishstick braids
that loped over your shoulders and
trailed down your little girl pancake
flat chest to your thin, pale
little girl hips.
you were child once and i don’t think
either of us have grown up.
i am peter pan, whisking you away
to neverland and you always screamed
never never never
because when you’re with me,
you never want to leave.
i sleep well now that you’re gone
(did you leave or were you never here?)
even though ghosts try to twirl
into my room like dancers and pirouette
within my heart, searching in the sinew
of my muscle, the marrow in my hollow
bird bones for something that might bring you back.
you never left neverland but i don’t think i was ever there.
prompted by an anon.
tagged as: poetry. prose. creative writing. rejectscorner. spilled ink. ghost writers united. will be left on the slide..
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