off to neverland | poems

i.

The steam from the pot rolled heavy across the air.

He played with my hair, fair 

but not.

There is something about the way he holds me

tight, but not so.

I’m still cold.

ii.

I walk out onto the street, to meet

with him 

again

off to Neverland we go

or shall I think

blink

right before my eyes everything flashes

Neverland turned into never-turning-back.

iii.

I stair into the abysses of this cold, empty space

It’s not what imaged to face

This whole thing,

 I created it in my head,

a fairy-tail, a happily-ever-after,

turned dead.