a kid under a tablecloth insists he's a ghost. a table
underneath a tablecloth is, i guess, like the rest of us,
only pretending to be invisible
—richard siken
/
it's kind of a
funny
story
isn't it?
at least,
that's what you tell yourself
it's the irony of it, really,
that gets your blood
boiling
after everything you've been through
and everything you've done
the end of the world comes anyway
[and baby it's all your fault]
/
tick tock (goes the clock)
time is
running
OUT.
/
an amnesiac, a corpse and a chinese canadian walk into a bar
(you wait for the punchline
but you're already the joke)
/
there's not much you remember:
b-i-t-s
p/i/e/c/e/s
you know your name
(you're a walking tragedy)
you know your dad
(now there's a prize)
these facts could fill
a children's
[story] book
and what you don't know could fill
a novel
/
there's a flower that
grows
on your windowsill
do you see it?
it feeds off your guilt
and calls you a liar
/
hero, they say,
like it's something to be proud of
proud of
hero (noun):
a person admired for their courage,
or their achievements
your courage consists of:
1 x ballpoint pen
1 x godly parent
and your achievements?
empty
empty
empty
[empty]
EMPTY
now that's a hero,
right, folks?
/
jason and his argonauts
a story for the ages
but what history books
don't tell you
is this:
infidelity
rape
murder
all in a day's work for a greek hero,
right, perce?
/
there is so much
B-L-O-O-D
on your hands
you're surprised they aren't
D
R
I
P
P
I
N
G
BiancaZoëCastorLeeBeckendorfMichaelSilenaLukeLeo
(it's no coincidence
tears taste like the sea)
/
a half-blood of the eldest dogs
that's all you are
half-god, half-man
(half-hero, half-coward)
destined
to make
a choice
how can they ask that of you
when you don't even know trig?
how can they expect
you to make that choice
and not feel responsible for the
—repercussions—
/
to save a friend,
athena told you once,
you would sacrifice the world
isn't it funny, then,
that so many of your friends are
dead
and the world is ending
just
the
same
/
tartarus hangs off you
like a cloak
it's dark
it's heavy
it weighs
you down
and wraps you tight, tightly, tighter
like a boa constrictor
or a wind-up toy
annabeth feels it too
you know she does
but she was always the
brave
one, wasn't she?
the brave one
the smart one
the one with a plan
but you
you
son of poseidon
(the sea never liked to be tamed)
and now
now
tartarus hangs off you
like a cloak
and you don't have the courage
or the cleverness
to get yourself out of this hot mess
(have fun, hero;
you're in for a wild ride)
/
the end of the world
starts with the stupidest of things:
a nosebleed
your nosebleed, seaweed brain
[of course it's all your fault]
(and they all know it, too)
/
you are selfish, perseus jackson
you are a tide and a calming breeze and a kayak crossing a lake
you are a storm and a raging ocean and a ship splintering into watery depths
you are not a hero,
hero
how does it go again?
to storm or fire the world must fall
that's not you, baby, that was never you
so why don't you run on home
and let the big boys handle it?
but you don't
because you are selfish
and your folly ends the world
/
every scar
on your body
has a
. s . t . o . r . y .
you're a walking cliché
there's one from luke,
one from a drakon,
and a dozen others from a dozen other monsters
scars are supposed to make you feel
brave
scars are supposed to make you feel
strong
but your scars,
baby,
hero,
saviour of olympus;
your scars make you feel
used
after all, it's all fun and games,
until someone gets h/u/r/t
[then it's hilarious]
/
sometimes you miss it
you know?
tabula rasa;
blank slate
you miss the peace
the calm
the quiet
you miss the
f-r-e-e-d-o-m
because right here
right now
with your memory i/n/t/a/c/t
you
are
SHACKLED
like prometheus to his rock
destined for pain
(for greatness they say—
—but you know that's a lie)
/
and don't you know
heroes [aren't meant to] survive?
/
p-p-p-percy
even your name is like
a promise
/bob says hello/
you tell the stars
but it's not enough
(is it?)
to erase your mistakes
/
the trident has
threethreethree
prongs
(one for the master
one for the dame
and one
for the little boy who lives—
no. that's not right)
one for who you were
—worthless stupid arrogant ugly wrongwrongwrong—
one for who you are
—fledgling saviour loser second-best still wrong you're wrong you're [a carbon copy of] a hero—
and one for who you'll become
—praetor martyr hero? villain? you don't know you just don't know anymore—
three prongs
for the three fates
three prongs—
that's two more
than are needed to
F
A
L
L
on your own
sword
/
and isn't it funny
that someone once said:
give me a hero and i'll write you a tragedy
because percy,
baby,
seaweed brain;
you were doomed from the start
/
the end of the world is nigh
(tick tock perce; your time's almost up)
/
i'm [not] afraid of dying
you say
as you die
because, after all—
what's /one/ more little lie?
/
sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine.
—richard siken