Peter Pan

I think I’m losing myself. the dark and buried parts untether and disintegrate cruising by my fingertips and into the hourglass. the empty grin stays. the numbness kicks in. I don’t think I’m the same. spare some sparkled joy or some bellied laughter so my stomach feels full. grab these shaking hands they’re itching for more life. I am lost, boy I can’t be here. when the sun goes down and my mind stops running teach me how to fly on the belief of more time.