I’m beset by dreams where I fly and I
wake cold and remorseful as I cling
to the solid state of my bed, eyes wet
with self doubt. I’m a masked man
climbing, unstable and free then the
sun rises and snaps me to the ground
where I see a soul encapsulated, cold.

The barking dogs make me shiver as
I fear the subhuman forms will still
overpower and emasculate all I’ve
worked to be. I climb to the roof and
the world below is static, unmoved.

I am no hero though I feign to flight.



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