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
as I
the golden sibling
and grew up
to eat

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,
six times
and then nothing but little white nerves

This represents failure. Failure!

I will become a monster
simply because I look like one.