We've become cliché,
And not just one,
But a multitude.
The forbidden romance.
The older man.
The late night phone calls.
The cigarettes after ***.
The hopeless romantics.
The songs we sing to each other.
The late night drives to nowhere.
The fling that never ends.
We've become cliché.
And I couldn't be happier.

i.
no matter what your teachers
may tell you, your grades are not a
measure of how smart you are, that
has more to do with how you handle your
heart, and i have never seen anyone love
more fiercely or smart than you.  

ii.
i have let boys touch me just because
i was scared to lose them; don't let them
lay a hand on you without you asking
them to, you are worth more than that.

iii.
people will walk away, but you've known
that already.  keep your chin up so that when
they turn back one last time, they know that
you don't need them.
you don't need them.

iv.
i hope you find somebody that holds your
hands, even when you're nervous and
they start to sweat.  if they pull away,
you come find me and i swear,
i won't let go.

the lowly branches give a creek
as they bend to earth to give a greet
i pat my horse to soothe its whine
as we duck another twisted vine
deeper into the forest we go
as we hear the water flow
body positioned; ready for flight
as we follow the second star to the right
we walk along the trodden trail
our puffs of breath, both heavy and frail
we walk until we can’t anymore
my heart skips a beat, then two, then four
we settle under a tree for the night
the branches impede our source of light
we knot ourselves and drift off to sleep
hoping we won’t miss Peter Pan creep
for he’s the one we’ve followed so far
withstanding the blood, the bruise, the scar
so that when he sees us, he won’t run or hide
instead, he’ll look upon us with pride
he’ll break into a grin,
he’ll hold out a hand
and with a little bit of pixie dust
we’ll fly to Neverland.