January 6th, 2022/our heroes are dead

Today’s Prompt: Who is someone that inspires you and why?
Photo by Life Of Pix on Pexels.com
I have a superpower,
I raised myself
on the milk of my own dreams.

When I was in 1st grade,
I wanted to be an engineer like my parents.
I knew engineers designed roads,
but I didn't know what designing roads was.

When I was in 1st grade,
I wanted to be like my parents when I grew up,
because I'd never really thought about it before.

I am
a child of elven forests
and fairy wings
and blankets turned mermaid tails.
I am
a child of zombie torrents
and story scenes
and spaceships of pirate whales.

I have a superpower,
I raised myself
on the substance of my own dreams.
I gave up on engineering by 3rd grade,
and then I didn't know who to be in this world of humans--
all the heroes who could have inspired me
to discovery my identity*
were dead before they ever existed.

*(writer, queer, slightly autistic, nature-lover,
creative, has difficulty making friends--
I keep these labels in a box beneath the bed
and keep the doubt-bugs out by telepathic warfare)

But I don't blame them. Or anyone, really.
It means I have another label to help the box feel less lonely:
hero-less.

I have a superpower,
I raised myself
on the moonlight of my dreams.
The light comes and goes, phases fade.
But I am okay.
I know how to be hungry,
and wander in the dark,
and always I pretend that I was good at
raising myself.

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