The truth about being a superhero, is that only certain people know when to call us at exactly the right time. When the world is about to break into chaos and when the cities need us to be there.

But this isn’t exactly the job I thought it was going to be. I have devoted myself to being the best I can be for the people of my city, for freedom and justice, and for you. And for the first few months of my job, I was everywhere.

People knew my name, I was in every newspaper, children looked up to me, put me on their lunchboxes, they wanted to be me…

They say heroes aren’t born, they’re made. But I was born! Of  the kindness of my mother, and the bravery of my father to create this image of strength. I am a superhero! I can fly, can you fly? Can you wear this suit? Can you handle the responsibility?

Not all of my city wanted a superhero. Some of them became the villains. And it’s not like I can’t handle a few bad guys, but sometimes, the citizens are my kryptonite.

Sometimes they don’t want me, one day they praise me and the work that I’ve done, the next day, they say they don’t need another hero, I’m just another problem, they say “Leave us the way that you found us: broken. And not needing anybody around to fix it.”

But I’m not perfect either. I can fly, but gravity still brings me back to earth, I can run, but not from my problems, I can carry cars with my two hands. But the weight of the world still sits on my shoulders.

The day they told me to leave the city, I reminded myself that if I harmed any one person, broke my promise to be the sole keeper of freedom and justice for all. That I would hang up my cape and quit.

And I did. I became human again, I am not as strong as you made me out to be. You told me I wasn’t needed. And soon after the villains had returned and they were shouting for me to save them again.

I thought you didn’t want me, stop it, I’m no hero, I’m just a person. Please, my powers only do so much. Do you still need me to save you? I’m just an alien, a science experiment, a mutant, a drawing in a comic book.

I am not your superhero! I can’t do this anymore! It was you who pushed me away, you fear my powers, you fear me. But I didn’t do anything wrong.

Please… Just let me go.  You are the heroes now. Just let me go.

My girl is a superhero:
With one foot she snuffs the smoldering
Cigarette **** her depression lies in, and
With the other she staves  the weight of a
Terrible job;
With her left hand she creates and makes
Beautiful things from a beautiful mind,
And with her right she craddles me,
All the while flying on the small vibrant
Wings of a robyn.

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.

Oh heroes of our youths, drawn in
splendid colors and panels or flying across
screens for sake of justice, you stars
of infinity and all realities sparing us
from the scourge of boredom while you
saved the day with ease, right vs wrong
clear as the cerulean sky, for you we pine!

Your winsome smiles soothed housewives
and maidens and doe-eyed youngsters
even as your capes became faded
and tattered and no longer were draped
over bedposts of intrepid lady reporters
willing to overlook, like we all did,
the familiarity of your unspectacled faces!

Your somber tongues gravely implored
us to redeem our grimy criminal cities,
lighting our fervor by spotlight against
darkest sky and even in the absence
of grappling hooks or alone with only
the latest fashionable belt, with no
hot young bird in the passenger seat
of your improbable nocturnal sports cars!

Your responsibilities and power came
all woven together, kept you from looking
out of any of your eyes the wrong way
either up or upside down, holding
the universe together with chivalry
and astute entomological acrobatics!

Your master kicks rivaled any other
rat or amphibian, and it was pure art
how you would karate chop through
our mutated melancholy, radical dudes
freeing us in every dimension
from maniacal brains and threats
of shredding our dignity like pizza cheese!

Your ecology was right as rain,
bio-available when we'd ring you up
and always giving back the power after
cleaning up some toxic mess, blowing
our adolescent minds as you flew about
kicking *** and spouting corny puns
long before oddly-dyed hair was trendy
and when Earth was a few degrees cooler!

We mourn you now more than ever,
remembering you with longing
as true villains appear, their green rocks
growing heavier and more radioactive,
their twisted jokes severing us
from one another, spewing venom,
bidding us conquer this land
and scorching the world for spite.

We mourn you now, our heroes, gone
but not forgotten and barely evoking
this nostalgic sense that you never left,
summoning within us the courage
to claim our inheritance, to finally discover
those ancient powers you've bequeathed;
to finally step up and save the world.

The night is here and the wind is slightly rushing at our entrances; although, inside the climate has it's differences. In between the thermostat providing warmth, dimmed vision, television illuminating our faces, cinnamon scents floating through the vents, my arms are imprinted from your sudden firm grips. It's my lap you sit as we watch continuos scenes of outburst, followed by your hysterical vocal siren. Unsure if this movie is actually getting scary or if its because the Hennessy mixed apple cider is wearing. As the fallen leaves picks up by the breeze I can hear growing alerts of "trick or treat", which happens to be the most exciting sight of your night. Seeing you so enthused by the little costumes, loving how well you are with the young; therefore, it's blissful to witness you having so much subtle fun. Temporarily able to shut ourselves back inside and it is obvious that the gusts have been having it's way with your bun. Reposition as "Netflix and chill" get back real. You get your last shivers out as you find shelter for your arctic feet. Took us a couple of tries to agree on what's comfortable, finally. Now I'm back to supporting your marshmallow like body in my tightened arms when I'm stricken by this rush of paradise. The feeling of triumph, due to being able to give you what you ultimately asks of me. You didn't know you'll be spending nights like this with your superhero dressed in a white T-shirt and grey sweatpants. The uniform that none of the candy seeking children glorifies; however, they don't know how high I jumped, how hard I stomped, how straight I punched and how fast I had to run to save you from all those jokers.