Dear Wendy
I know I told you I’d find you again, when I’m older.
I was seventeen and I didn’t know.
I’m twenty-five, I’m older, I gather esoteric wisdom like trinket, only to throw them away.
You knew everything when you were eight. Then some more at twelve, and at twenty-three, you’re the wisest.
I split my heart in two and gave you the smaller piece.
You didn’t notice, till you saw her stomping all over the bigger one.
I was supposed to be wiser now.
I’m drunk on quarter-life crisis. I had it all.
I hate when a puzzle fits too right, so I ran because that’s all I’ve known.
My feet hurt, but at least I’m far.
My heart hurts, but at least I’m loved.
I am addicted to the what-ifs. At the wishing fountain, I throw my cheap change for false prophets to tell me I’ll have you again in this life.
Everyone in Neverland knows your name.
I love singing it, when I’m alone, wondering if you can hear it at a distance.
Everyone how this story ends, with my feet never touching the holy ground that’s an ice field, that you fell through, and drowned.
I saw that you kept the lamp burning.
I thought you’d wait all your life for me but you have found your armored knight , you valiant Lost Boy, who tore his heart out from his court of mail, and gave the whole of it to you.
I hope I fade from your memory soon, but you will be etched in mine forever.
From,
The Boy who never grew up