There’s a cape hanging in the corner,
a mask by the door.
This retired fighter has long since taken his bow.
There aren’t any villains these days.
He gave them all their two strikes
before putting a hole in their head.
No zombies, no dragons.
The battles with the yeti are long gone.
All his wonder years are behind him:
13, 14, 17, 22.
They’re all twinkling behind him like lonely stars.
Now he’s just writing letters to depression and envy
His damsel in distress has long since
walked away from the romance she wanted
and she’s never, ever coming back,
not to this darkside.
He declares that he won’t miss her
she should just stay gone.
After all, this is not a home anymore
for their old would-be love song.
I’ve begged him not to forget her
but the boy never learns.
He looks to the past as if travelling through time tunnels,
but he can’t find the titles and cue cards he once had.
It seems he’s just waiting for one beautiful monster
to come in and fill in the blanks of his life.
One day, I fear I might find him
face down on the floor without a breath left in him.
I know he thinks about it.
I worry about him,
I was going through some things of his
and found notes beginning with
“Before I go,”
“More reasons to hate me,”
“I am replaceable.”
If only I could make him see,
it’s only one step forward,
one step at a time.
But I think I can break him of this.
Show him that falling doesn’t hurt as much as floating
I’ll bring him back from this
for the sharks,
the assassins in the snow,
and for his angel of ashes.
I already feel it’s working,
these days there’s fire in his eyes again.
I know he’ll be okay,
after all the hero never dies.