This was there own personal Neverland.
A place where they lived like adults, but had the responsibilities of kids.
The ultimate freedom of a no strings attached kiss,
selling a bit of their souls with each sinful purchase.
Oh how bad I wanted to be a part of it.

Take me to this corrupt Neverland,
this place of spoiled childhoods and sad futures.
let us dance and laugh and play,
until we die or get sent away.
Utopia seems so reachable while standing in your shoes,
Out of all the worthy people,
I hope I am the one Peter will choose.

The unspoken words and thick air always lingers but never settles. No

senses can reach this message, I want them

written on paper, murmured in a coy way, tastelessly forced upon me to devour, sung until the music notes are so bright

that crows toes curl at my squinting wrinkles.

What scientists can’t prove

is the nothing of human connection, what hearts tend to lose

is instinct without dissection.

I have no proof and it’s all in my head so the unspoken words and

thick, choking, air,

squeeze out of my lungs. escape from my mouth and into

evidence.

Instead.

A million faces I don't know
this feels better than home.