Outsider Complex

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.)

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Legends

A.

What makes a monster?

Whether having hooves or claws?
Or the mere look in their eyes?

The story’s been told. Heroes know
what becomes of monsters.

Nobody wants to believe
that humans are monstrous.



B.

When you sink your teeth into my soul,
my emotions
haunt me like ghosts-

Wounds alive,
invisible

to those who don’t believe
in magic,

on a loop,
tangible,

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Must Be Fear (F.L.’s Song)

Your irises always sing an aqua harmony,
but I don’t see their shades, when you
sit me down to hear your tale.

If the tension in the air is any clue, there must be fear dancing
in the wrinkles around your eyes,
but I am trying to count colors. I focus to discern.

You murmur that you’re happy, glancing down and to the right.
Your pupil floats like a fish.
I hope I look like an angel.

“They always say these conversations are hard, but-“

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