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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #1920222
Peter Pan learns to fly.
The whole world is shouting at me
I jump and I crawl and I shout and I cry
I can't feel myself move, I can't hear myself speak or make sound
There's hot air in my stomach, and a persistent chill in my bones
My words attempt to rhyme
A sing song tease in my mind
I mismatch persons and meanings
I can't create melody, I can't devise purpose, I can't see

The whole world is choking me
I climb up mountains, tip over and roll back down
Sprawled at the bottom, collapsed, panting in a heap
I try to bleed but nothing leaks out

The whole world is drowning me
I pump in more hot air, attempting to inflate
I rise three inches from the ground
I'm floating, I'm flying, I'm Peter Pan

The whole world cradles me, and snuggles me, and pats me on the back
Blinded by the sunshine, I don't see him coming
I fall into the sand, and struggle against the waves
Salt stings strange wounds
Burn marks and tattoos seared inside
He moans my name (You're so pretty, Peter Pan) and loves me the way he knows how

The whole world fades away
I float in a abyss of my own
Where ships may come and go
Travelers from around the world
Pointing and staring and calling for me or ignoring

The whole world comes into sharp focus
My glasses break across my face
Balanced on my nose, they crack beneath her force
She shoves me away and she shouts and she cries
Soiled and disgusting, I shy away
I back too far and begin to fall

Time to fly, Peter Pan.
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