like a hot air balloon, powered by fire
my life, is powered by my wire
it gets too short and i go pop
it gets too long and i just stop

you wanna know about the scars on my shoulder
they were caused by a compass
yeah, the one you draw maths with
i couldn't help it - i was crying too much
it was the only way the pain would stop

I sit in contemplation
trying to close my eyes
so I turn off the playstation
and drop my phone with a sigh.

Earlier, I tried to eat a pear
'cause fruit is healthy and stuff
but it was too hard for me not to care
it just wasn't ripe enough.

This show I've been obsessed with
and the manga after that
have busted that subconscious myth
that fiction has a lesser impact.

How long will I spend in the depths
of the fandom and content I find
accessible at my fingertips
and flooding through my mind?

When will I sense the ending
of this era of nights spent reading
headcanons, and content expanding
on the world on which I'm feeding?

Last night the latest chapter
was out on my mobile app
and I stumbled across it after
going to reread whatever was last.

It hit me like a ton of bricks
like the weight of hardback copies
of every scene the author depicts—
sent shock throughout my body.

A character who, before this day,
was invincible and proud
not unrivaled in his sway
but always drawing a crowd.

And then the last page caught me
and I could not look away
as tendrils from the enemy
cut through its raging prey

Too quick to be avoided
the hit was meant for another
but he knew he'd been appointed
as savior to his brother.

Taking a bullet for the one he abused
the one he had hated and cursed
before their fates were irrevocably fused
without either harsh role reversed—

All perceived slights against him
any contempt he thought he had shown
was forgotten as he jumped out to save him
His body just moved on its own.