Lost boy 2
I wished you a lost boy, but you could not be free. I wished myself a wall, but it could never be. I wished myself a bullet, silver, sharp, and true. I wished away my mirror, but staring back was you. I asked the shooting star for peices of my youth. Instead it handed back to me a million bits of truth, each one as bitter as my heart, as fragmented as my part in this celestial play we write. I hope you can see past the plight of a fragmented boy who thinks that all he is is in her drinks.










