wendy

the perfect place to be
is twenty three.

we build a pillow fort
and then fuck in it.

after too many attempts
to have what they wanted from me

i'm finally ready
to ask for what i need.

i need
more playtime

and someone who sees
the beauty in cynicism
the same way that i do.

i'm sappy and moral and
filled with torment

wine
and lasagna


and thoughts about how often

peter pan
has crossed my mind.

the goal this time
is not to fall in love.

something else.
a new flavour

more savory.

the neighbors upstairs
ask me
how peter is doing

they've never met him
but this is proof
that my moans have

leeched through the walls.

love.
maybe not.

what i crave is decibels
a wild bouquet of
bruises
on my knee caps
and a few cute quotes
to seal the deal.

text message soliloquy's
140 characters
or less

no time for romance
in the new age