I used to speak to the moon almost every night. While my tears became an ocean, I began to swim, to catch my breath, to save myself from dying. In between the tides, I saw my body lie there, my heart crushed between my fingers, my eyes locked inside my head. I dreamt of Neverland again. I dreamt of flying with a boy who knew all of my secrets. We jumped from cloud to cloud, reciting every poem that ever spoke of love. I dreamt of sorrow that disappeared in the air and of mermaids who showed me which way to go.
I met the boy from my dream. I saw him standing on the porch of an old run-down home. There was a light that shined behind him. He looked just like an angel with no wings. What was his spell on me? Was it the leather jacket he wore? The cuffs on his wrists and the spears on his belt? Was it how familiar he seemed? I stood with him that night. We chain smoked cigarettes while he confessed to me his heartache caused by the world. We solved the problems of capitalism and war. His thumb grazed my knuckles. I told him all of my secrets.
Time is almost invisible but I’m afraid of it running out. My head rests on the boy that I met a long time ago. His heart dances and takes mine by her hand. They swing at their hips, they tango, their heels kiss on the tiled floor. The Earth keeps on spinning. Voices turn into shrubs and the only thing I hear is tun tun tun like drums beating through his chest. My arms wrap all the way around his torso. He reminds me of a tree in the forest. The moisture of his leaves soak into my pores. This is the first time my body is drenched in water. Azaleas blossom on my skin. I had never felt the warmth of the sun so strongly until this very moment.
I used to speak to the moon almost every night. I begged her to send me someone who could love me, someone who would soothe the thoughts that drove me to pain. I used to ask for the Earth to just stay here a while so that I could listen to my own whispers. Tonight I dream again of Neverland. I dream of a boy who flies and takes me with him. Only this time, it isn’t just a dream. The imprint of our bodies stains the sheets. I look into his pupils and I finally know peace.