H.G. Wells - The Invisible Man
Dear Little Pink People,
Even when made of glass,
I was never one of you.
Before I became a paradox,
Father passed out on the edge of the nest
the golden sibling
and grew up
I crept closer to my goal—closer to the sea
who knew being swallowed by the ocean could seem so welcoming?
Consumed by a yellow famine
I tried five times—no,
and then nothing but little white nerves
This represents failure. Failure!
I will become a monster
simply because I look like one.