the day i stole superman’s cape


As a kid I was told I was supposed to fly. But I didn’t know how. So I stole Superman’s cape while he was sleeping — well, what else was I going to do? When I knotted the cape tight around my neck, there was nothing super about me. I was draped in bright red so powerful, underneath I was still pale and powerless. Sometimes I wish I could slip into a phone booth, and emerge a better man.

Is change ever that simple? Or are all of us standing between the damned and divine?

Last night a thick tarp midnight blue wrapped elegantly around the stars. I slept soundly in the dark, and dreamed that I was strong. There I was: more than you bargained for, braver than you imagined, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, a hero among villains…but it was only a dream.

I don’t see what’s so great about being awake.

Sometimes it seems like I’m never right, like I’ve got eyeballs full of let down and failure, like my blood is full of mistakes, like even at my best, I’m washing the dirt off your worst. Sometimes it seems like home is where the heartbreak is — I know, I know, everything happens for a reason. But does that mean that each of those reasons is good? I am Jekyll. I am Hyde. I am a monster in a man. And Frankenstein is the story of us all, because everybody is somebody else stitched together.

Look, for years I tried to make you happy. But if I could take those years back, I wouldn’t try to make you at all. Who am I to chisel your bones? And who are you to dye me your favorite color? Sure, we may create, but we aren’t the creator. So I’m done with phone booths and flying. I’m done trying to be exactly what you want, because I’m born to be plenty of things that you aren’t. The most common cause of death is absurd expectations, and the shortest distance between two hearts is the willingness to listen.


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