Run, Diana, run! they say
We'll teach you how to fly!
But they don't know what it is like
To live this awful lie:
They say they love me, then they don't
And flip their words around
I don't know who or what is which
A truth that can't be found.
Don't say you love me! Don't you dare!
Can't you see it isn't fair?!
Mrs. Darling, Nana too
Won't be there when the hook tears through—
A-pirating we go!
Run, Diana, run! they say
You'll be here, safe, with me!
A siren's song that sounds so sweet
That ends in tragedy:
First he'll find you, then you'll scream
For mercy all night long;
And then a bullet through your skull—
Who cares if it is wrong?
Don't say you love me! Don't you dare!
Can't you see he'll never care?!
Hook will take you to your death,
For Tink has took her final breath—
A-pirating we go!
Run, Diana, run! they say
The darkness closes in!
And for a moment, let's pretend
That Peter Pan can win:
Hook will force me off the plank
I'll fall down towards the sea;
Peter Pan will catch me, right?
Or else, that's what I think.
Don't say you love me! Don't you dare!
Don't say it when you're never there!
Wendy sleeps with mermaids now,
And Peter sinks down to the ground—
A-pirating we go!
YOU ARE READING
The Art of Confusion
PoetryDiana Miller is schizophrenic...or at least she thinks so. She has never been clinically diagnosed because her father believes that mental illness is demon possession, and she knows he would never take her to a psychiatrist. To cope with her inner c...
