On the day they gave out superpowers,
I said I wanted to be invincible.
The Creator, old and feeble even then,
Blinked and squinted. I knew he didn’t hear.
And just like that, I became invisible.
Some around me dashed away at super speed,
Some took flight, burning in the sky like meteors,
but there I stood. Not that anybody noticed.
Mortal, invisible, alone. Bullets could riddle me
and no one would even see my blood.
A speeding train might run me down–
the engineer would never know.
I asked the Creator what was I supposed to do.
He cocked his head like a curious dog
and walked away. That’s my origin story,
how I became the incredible not-there man,
king of entrances and exits, master of being ignored.
I let my hair grow shaggy–why should I care
about appearances? I stopped bathing
till I was just an odor passing through the world.
I sometimes saw crimes, but the criminals
didn’t see me. Why should I get involved?
I gave up food and water and began to fade away,
though I’m the only one who knows,
not even you beside me now as I die,
living your life, thinking your thoughts,
effortlessly reflecting light.
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