Sycophants on velvet sofasAn old familiar face slides up beside me as I hurry to run a couple of errands downtown before we head home. Batman took me out for breakfast to pick my brain on gifts for people he isn't especially close to and I'm great at corporate gift-giving. Vintage ornaments and modern music boxes for all.
Lavish mansions, vintage wine
I am so much more than Royal
Snatch your chain and mace your eyes
If it feels good, tastes good
It must be mine
Heroes always get remembered
But you know legends never die
Whiskey for those without problems. Alcohol is a loaded gift these days. You never know.
So while he fetches the whiskey I need to return some things, gifts sent unsolicited from my Devil. I'm so out of time and then I look up and the brown hippie curls of Skateboard Jesus frame the face staring back at me.
If you change for them, what happens to you?
How long can you be someone else? Why do they get to demand this when they realize they aren't special?
Maybe they are special and I'm the one who's ordinary.
That's not how this works. Why would you want to be someone else?
A fresh start.
You've already done that a few times over. Does it work?
Then stop changing and stop apologizing and be who you are. Onwards and upwards, Princess.
I looked up into his face and see Jacob's blue eyes and freeze. When I blink they're brown again and Batman is beside me saying my name. Asking me if this man is bothering me. Trying to get information from me but I can't. I can't talk. I can't do this.
Who are you? He finally asks directly.
An old friend, Jesus says, and glides away.