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A Dash of Red Jan 2016
Everyone wants to be a superhero.
Or a supervillain, in some cases.
Everyone wants to be special,
To defy the norm,
To be loved,
Praised,
Worshipped.

I’m one of the lucky few who got what they wanted.
But here’s the thing about wishes;
There’s always a twist.
A glitch in the code,
A setback,
A call to reality,
To make us pay for our selfish wants.

What’s my power, you ask?
It’s certainly a good one.
And my curse?
It’s a doozy, I’ll tell you that.

I can’t fly,
I can’t communicate with animals,
Can’t breathe under water,
Don’t have super strength,
And I can’t see through steel.

I have the best power of them all.
I can become Invisible

I can easily slip away from anything without being noticed,
I can watch the world unfurl, completely unaffected.

Thing is, I can’t become visible when I want to.
My power chooses its own schedule.

Meaning…
I’m completely alone, 80% of the time.
I can’t make friends,
Because they can’t see me.
I can’t have conversations,
Because no one wants to talk with a ghost.
I get left behind,
Because no one knew I was there in the first place.

I must be strong.
I have to be.
Because no one will be there for me.
No one wants to care.
No one can.

I talk to myself,
Or watch the world like a show,
Craving to be a part of it.
I know it’ll never happen,
But it’s always fun to dream.

Of being loved,
Wanted,
Noticed,
Acknowledged.
Heck, I’d even settle for being hated,
If it only meant that I would get to know what it feels like,
To be looked in the eye.

Have you ever felt the feeling,
Of being looked through?
Like a window,
Or a spirit?

It starts to get to you, ya know?
You start to think about it,
Start to stop seeing yourself as well.
Suddenly, you don’t even exist.
Not to anyone,
Not even yourself.




Oh, yes.
I am so,
Very,
*Special
Sincerely,
No One.
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2015
Truth once singular  .  .  .
Mucked all up with politics,
  .  .  .  In cowl of falsehoods.
Cardboard-Jones Jan 2020
That night, you stole,
Something precious from me.
One glance, my heart,
Couldn’t disagree.
Everything was fine until
I walked in on your last ****.
Even though the signs all showed, I didn’t know
That you’re just evil.

I catch you sneaking out at night,
I knew something wasn’t right.
I thought that I knew you.
It’s always robberies in progress
Or some threat you made to Congress.
By the way you got some blood on your shoes.

Don’t try to distract me,
You always side track me
Your outfit does attract me, let’s get back to my point.
Thought it was love at first sight
But you just want to plan heists.
Am I just someone you see you can exploit?
And she said
“You’re my minion now.”
josie Dec 2018
something in my soul tells me
that I was made for the night
not like some supervillain
no, like this is my time
to just be

the night pulls me
to a life that's not mine
but one I'd love to live

I'm made for it,
I think
or something in my bones
tells me that I am

I can't quite describe
what exactly it is,
but I think it goes
something like this

neon lights in a dark room
genuine laughter
a big city swallowing me whole
reminding me how tiny I am
but in a good way
you're not insignificant
you're part of this huge world

no panic and fear
no constant ache in your chest
that tells you
the monster is just behind you

just living
wouldn't that be something?
Wade Redfearn Apr 2012
I sat in the old pool and let
the black algae sprout all over me.
I lay down and became soil for
the black algae. Gave it my
sweat so full of minerals. Ate it
to keep going. To keep going
and grow more and eat more.
I have been lying down so long
my ears are ringing. From the soda-water
smell of the pool bottom - my eyes spring
to color like an Indian rug
as I stand up.

I thought I was taller.

Every day I eat an apple
and watch the dogs fight each other
at the big rocks in the park and this
is Freedom.

And I think about you, or who you might be.
You are buried under the skin of the world
behind its face and muscle. You are sweet.
You are a lime seed.

You are a lime seed
and every day I eat an apple
whose seeds sleep in the
middle lurking with poison.

My plan is to **** on the flesh of the world.
I'm no supervillain. I just want the smack of sugar.
I will **** until you emerge. Or I
will run through the park, shout at every stranger
in a new voice.

I thought I was taller.
I thought I was taller.
I lose my balance.
I lie back down.
Ryan P Kinney Jun 2019
I’ve been told that I am part of the Millennial generation. I never liked being called that. I’m right on that line between Millennial and the previous generation. In high school I was told I was part of Gen X; the last class of X. As a comic nerd, I always thought this was much cooler. Like it was some kinda superpower to be the last kids to know what the world was like before the Internet; to know how to do things without it. I feel like some supervillain stole our power and knocked the generation line back as Millennials got older. They made us in-betweeners part of something we are not; stuck us somewhere we could never belong. When I hear Millennial I think millennium: those who grew up on the other side of Y2K. I graduated in 2000. I was already a man before there was a second millennium.

— The End —