The Healer
Subterfuge in touching you
Alleviate was my purpose.
Somewhere along those missguided shores
I left you gasping for breath
As my blood surged.
Striking. Spectacular. Imposing.
I leapt, dashed, strangled
Without ever meaning to.
All I yearned for
Was the chance to heal you.
Mistaken. Unsound. Imprecise.
My faults leaked from my well-intentioned fingertips.
To handle your inescapable pain
Let it escape. Let it be mine.
And as your hushed heartbeat thumped to the rhythm of my selfish ways
I let you slip away.
Unease. Sorrow. Compunction.
I'll regrettably live to heal another day.
Give me strength
I fell a long way, down into the Abyss.
Came out anew. Crawled out from the depths into a different world. I could feel a surge rippling beneath me, tremors of ancient power.
A mirror's reflection, in eyes and glass, is the true deception. I am not the same underneath my skin suit. What would come of me, now that I could move the Earth? Pick up boulders like they were cotton balls.
Bend steel as a child would bend licorice.
I will not look my parents in the eye. They would see past the pale exterior and know I am not the thing that was birthed by them. What tales would their eyes tell as they gazed upon my becoming?
I thought I could bring order to chaos. I thought I could be made whole.
I thought.
A human bone is strong, durable. To my hands it becomes chalk, a burst of white powder the spreads across the air like the baker's flour table as he slams his fists upon raw dough.
He laughed at me. Cracked his chapped lips apart and howled out guffaws. A song bird chirping beneath the paw of a bear.
I made quick work of him, crushed his bones until chalk dust poured out of his body. Dead twigs snapping beneath feet.
I hope I find the strength to stop myself.
I hope.
Sick Motivation
I can see your thoughts like paintings
of vulnerability, doors cringing wide,
they weep at my entrance and in secret
I embed my desires like a virus.
the merchant has arrived in your harbor
with inflated rates meant for amusement.
I could have saved you, but I peeled
your honesty to bandage my infection.
your wrongs make me right
and my power breeds within your fading,
I rise while you thank me for the dirt.
it's shaped like my ascended heel.
Super DJ
I belong
To "The League Of Super DJs"
My power comes
From the beats I play
At the begin
My spin
Broke evil men
But now I'm all in
For the personal sin
My slide into darkness
Has been quite hard
Since the group
Voted to pull
My "Hero Card"
Samuel L. Jackson
Was heard to call it,
"A Superhero Card? It's not in his wallet!"
Captain Bull Shit
I am
a Super
Hero
I Cry
Bull Shit
When Ever
I See
It
If I
Have
Abused
my Powers
Only you
Can
Tell me
How
to Stand
In
a World
of Plastic
Clowns
Is Why
I Was
Endowed
Bull Shit
Is
the Cry
As I
Dot
you
In
the Eye
Bull Shit
Is
the Theme
As I
Beat you
To
your Knees
Bull Shit
Is
the Sound
As I
Put you
In
the Ground
#B27321
Now Remember
Kids
Only you
Can Prevent
Bull Shit
Icarus
I'm cruising at 50,000 feet, propelled by laboratory-forged pterodactyl wings, the earth nothing more than a blue and green cat's eye marble below. I climb into the stratosphere, higher and higher. I've never felt farther from the sun.
I was assembled in a Petri dish. Vein-infested wings sprout from my shoulder blades, stretching 12 feet in each direction. My respiratory system more fighter jet than human, high altitudes offer no obstacle. I am the first of my kind. I am the only of my kind.
The boon-turned-curse of flight has no patience for walking. I never strolled through the park, I never danced with a girl at a party, I never waited in line for a movie on opening night. I was always above. My legs are useless with atrophy. Even as I soar, they dangle sadly like a marionette's wooden limbs.
Birds are my closest companions. Though their chainsaw squawks declare that I am not welcome in their flocks, I find I have more in common with these plumed aviators than I do with the creatures on the ground. My one-man flock migrates from town to town, never calling any place home.
And I suppose even an anti-hero needs a catchphrase: Never fly before you walk.
Ashes to Ashes
I felt it sleeping inside me. The fire. I felt it roiling and rumbling its way throughout my body, from the tips of my toes until it found its release shooting out of my fingertips. My eyes. My legs and my skin.
I also thought that I could handle it. I thought that I could control the brute strength of it if I concentrated on keeping the heat within me.
But I was too naive in my recklessness and proud in my independence.
In this moment I knew what was happening inside me. I chose to ignore the heat as I felt it building up until the fire threatened to burn its way out of each one of my edges.
His screams increased, banging loudly against my ear drums causing tears to spill down my cheeks and land upon my bruised skin. I felt the fire rise, slamming against the walls of my body. A war raged within me.
It only takes a moment to decide whether you're a good guy or a bad one.
I looked up into his eyes that had betrayed me again and again with words and with actions. I felt my skin start to boil and I gave into the rage. The fire was an animal battering itself against the confines of my skin until with a horrifying scream it broke free from its cage and engulfed us both in flames until my arms were empty and all that was left of him was ash.
Find Me, Have Me
The irony is in how you feel me.
In the heat of Summer sun, I am that distortion in the road,
a mirage - a blur in the Earth's matter.
The simple curiosity gleaming in your black-cat's eye
is the motion and static of my silhouette.
In the shower, alongside the moist suppleness of your skin,
I am the steam clinging to the glass encasing you -
press your fingertips into my shadow.
When the lights turn down and your eyelids are heavy,
I am that sudden chill down your spin,
the tingle on the back of your neck,
the air brushing hair across your vanilla forehead,
the coolness in your sheets,
the sensation vibrating below you -
surging deep in your abdomen,
rising.
The irony is in how you feel me -
- invisible me -
satisfied with the thought that you are completely alone.
Winge.
It's been three years now. I've managed to keep it a secret. Well, at least I've managed to keep it mysterious. It is truly a beauty to be here right now, on this mountain peak that I don't even know the name of. I look upon the shimmering lake with much awe. I don't feel the cold. I'm fully grown now. My feathers keep my warm. There is no one here but me and the singing wind. The ability to fly is high maintenance. But it also means I could travel all I want, without any appropriate visa or passport. It means there was no boundaries. After all, no one cared about birds crossing the border. Countries are such a vague concept now that I am a changed man. I am part human, part avian. When I'm not flying, I'm eating. When I'm filled, and wind-streaked, I drape over the palm trees, and write songs of my lost love.
Tralala
Goes the river of sadness
Like the stream of tears
That the city cries
What a delight
What a sight
Her wings under the pale moonlight
How I wish, I could fly away from time.
Hero for the Day
“God, I love you Fredrick,” Jessica whispered as ecstatic tears streamed her lovely face, “but, never do anything that stupid again. I couldn’t imagine losing you…”
I held Jessica close to me, savoring all she was, savoring this moment and burning it into my soul. It seemed like forever that I felt a woman’s love this honestly. Fred didn’t deserve her, nor did he deserve the honor for bravely ending the hostage situation at the bank. It was all me, using his body to do it. Once I leave it, he will remember all of it as a dream. I’ll remember it forever though. “I love you too, Jess. More than I’ll ever be able to truly show you.”
I kissed her sweet lips, tasted her tears and our passions upon them, savoring her for one more moment before letting my soul detach from Fred’s body; from these lives that just for a few days, I made a bit better. I let go, but it was harder this time. Jessica almost made it worth breaking my self-appointed rule about possession. Almost.
I let go completely, and let my scared body call my soul back like a lodestone. I cried silently once I was back in my broken prison. More from the loss of her than my condition; a coma I am aware of but haven’t been able to wake from. Tomorrow, I will slip into someone new, and make them a hero for the day. For purpose. Because I can.