Sam Rush-Neverland

When I was a boy I played Peter and rescued Wendy from Captain Hook and the Crocodile Tick. Tick Tick. Meanwhile the swallowed clock in my abdomen counted down the minutes until my insides would betray me. I’d carve symbols of manhood into neverland trees. Symbols I could never carve deep enough into me and prayed my bark would scar quick. When I was a boy I played Peter and Peter always dressed in clothes made out of leaves. Lost boys! Little Lost boys! Follow me! Little Lost boys wore the skins of the things they killed, filled the forest with dancing lost boy half-breeds. When I was a little boy I learned that girls were pretty like lanterns but not to be placed on the ground except when stronger light by house fire was needed. When I was a little boy I learned that time would bloom the rot that was inside of me and I would wake up seeping. When I was a little boy I played Peter, I played Peter but I knew it was always going to be make-believe. I would always be Lost Boy! Little Lost Boys! Follow me! I could only ever be a little lost boy. I could only ever be half-breed. When I was a little boy I felt shrapnel hit daily at this woman I would grow up to be. When I was a little boy I had little boy mouth, a little teeth, a little boy tongue. I could little boy speak but never learned how to hide my little boy eyes from all that is lost when little boys see about how little talk there is to little boys about how strong little girls have to be.

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