i met you in a bookstore,
you ordered coffee,
and we talked about the beauty of literature,
but mostly about comic books.

you said that we were superheroes,
under the glasses, the frizzy hair,
that we were something special,
and i started to believe you.

you told me that the first rule of being a superhero,
was that we were not to use capes.
so i thought, okay, no capes,
and we were one with the tapestry of the sky.

then like all superhero tragedies, you left,
your mask along with the crimson rose,
your stone still there,
a painful reminder of what was not there.

now i work alone,
teaching others how to bring hope in the secular age,
by teaching them the first rule: no capes.

my hair falls onto my pillow
the night sky spilling
onto the blank canvas
i gaze at the plastic stars
the light dim from the dead stars
not as bright as the moon.

Not as bright as you.

I stare at you
Your iridiscent sweater
The azure sky reflecting in your eyes
But I also notice
The ice on your lips
And in your heart.

I trace out the stars
On the map
Trying to find you in them
But I realise that you
Will never be found on the map
Because
Your constellation
Is the brightest
Amongst the others.

Please don't leave me.
Please don't leave.
Please don't.
Please-

We march.
Broken.
Devestated.
Deprived.
Unaware of our destination.

So as an act
Of bravery,
Of sadness or
Of fear.

But all we do,
Everywhere we go
We still need a purpose
We still need our motivation

To escape and live
To re start and re gain
To achieve and destroy
To become and to forget.

But till we find our destination,
We try to die,
We try to intoxicate
But lack to be remembered after death.

We march
For nothing
For the faded
For the shattered
For a forgotten cause