my wendy, you fly through my loneliest thoughts
you're high on pixie dust that seems to keep you more satisfied than you'll ever be with me
you only come down when you fall for these peter pans
these peter pans that forget the taste of your sweet thimble in milliseconds
these peter pans who brag about the way your gown gets caught on their fingertips
my wendy, come down for me.
no. no. you never will. this is neverland, after all.
YOU ARE READING
neverland
Poetrywendy, wendy, while you're asleep in your silly bed... you might be flying about with me, whispering funny things to the stars....
