Dear Elizabeth, - I mean mum

I ran away today. For real this time. I went with Peter because he hates life too. I didn’t want to be a burden. I wanted to escape the negative energy, and to stop fighting a losing battle , and loving you because i have to. So i went when you weren’t caring. But Peter cares for me, because he told me so.We’re going where  you can be forever young .Where the lost boys go, i suppose Peter is lost too. He has me now, and i found the shell of a boy a father could never love. we’ll live off love like they do in fairytales. He’s no rich prince and I’m not pretty enough to be a princess, but damaged enough to feel like one. Our relationship is too complicated for me to tell this to you in person.But  i wouldn’t know what to say when i say it and mean it like i did when i rehearsed it.I hate to admit this but i will miss you someday.Secretly i wish you will read it every night before you take your Nyquil and take your reading glasses off because you couldn’t stop the tears from falling.And people will hate me for doing this to my own mother.The one who carried me for nine months who dropped me and left me on the floor for 16 years.They will not understand that we just need a bit of room, where the stone, as cold and dead as it seems can grow moss.Potential.Just growth of some living kind. Now you've finished reading ( i hope?).You use it for whatever you want: to stub out your cigarettes, a makeshift carrier for your pills or simply as a letter for you to remember me by,

That mistake you made when you were 16