He stops, his voice too calm, too nonchalant.

I demand why, but his answers don’t make any sense—

calmer than the night sky, colder than the stars.

The crowd doesn’t seem to hear me,

And I don’t even see them anymore.

I accuse him, he doesn’t even try to deny it—

he even dares to call me arrogant for 

telling him his path isn’t possible.

I can hear his voice in my head:

Saying what I try to say now, only better, always better.

He asks me a question, one that reduces me—

And I grit my teeth against the ache in my chest.

A wordless threat comes from me, and he tells me

I can do it if I want, that at least there’d be a point to that,

As if there was a point to any of it other than to be my—

He vanishes, I clench my fist. Dark leaves light,

The tables turned, the roles reversed, 

Weak and strong, the whole world wrong.