Stumble Through Life

mythic

i used to wish i had a better name,

with trills and rhythm and quiet lilts.

one that nobody would want to shorten 

or forget because how could you ever 

want to rid your tongue of such a wonderful name.

when i am a hero, i would patent my name

so whenever anyone wanted to name their child

my wonderful name they would have to ask upon me

and i would not charge them because 

wonderful names make for wonderful children.

yellow is my favorite color,

even though it's a terrible for coloring,

and kids would taunt me for it,

holding up their dandelions

under my nose

as i sniffled and coughed

half because of allergies and half

because i would never have rosy cheeks and tulip lips,

yellow is my favorite color because it is the color of the sun, 

at least from my bedroom window,

though i hear it looks different from up close.

i used to think of the sun as just a quarter circle in the corner of my coloring page,

only there to carefully trace in waxy crayon.

then the sun became a person,

just sunshine elbows and daisy collarbones, not yellow but golden, and harsh, like refined rust.

they would let their children drive the sun like a bike with no training 

wheels,

and i was blue and yellow with jealousy,

i grew up like phaethon, chasing after the coattails of my father, and running from the reach 

of my own mother's arms.

i learned to run like daphne, letting my hair reach towards the sky, each tangled tendril a thorn 

each made to draw only enough blood for me to be a challenge, hard-to-get, a test for someone 

else's 

coming into masculinity.

i fought like achilles, invincible to everything but my ankle except it wasn't just an ankle, it was 

the last pillar holding up the last wonder of the world, and as we fell, it was pitifully, violently, 

quiet.

i am not heracles, i am the nemean lion, the ceryninean hind, the river nymph, another notch on 

the belt, another conquest to be made, just a bystander too cowardly to fight, too prideful to 

retreat

i am so far from the protagonist,

but i will be damned if

i die a wreath for someone else's head.

i would rather burn than never learn the color of the sun.