Sometimes I would like to be a hero—

Clean-handed, showing up,
averting eyes while all the villains
fall on their own swords.

(After I stare morbidly
while my beloved bargaining chips cry.)

I would get all the credit, despite never accepting it—
Vulnerable to my enemies, impenetrable to my friends,
like I really did have a death wish for a messiah complex.

They would call me special, and I would agree,
so no one would truly challenge me inside my 2-D fantasy.

Then, I think I’ll stay the villain, for the thread through fact
and fiction is music,

and surely it is not the worst of lives
with the best of songs.




(feat. in Yours, Poetically)