(#thebatman #poetry #poem) (other pov this time lol)

in your dreams, your hand runs up the side of his face and he doesn't smile, but he doesn't move away either. you stroke his mask, as if it were his skin, then tear it off. underneath, there's— nothing. you always wake up at this part. as if the reality of what it could be alarms you so much that your body can only jolt away from the idea.

you don't know why you bother. you're no fool, you understand the real appeal – and it /is/ the mask. there's no reason at all to dig beneath perfection. he stands like a statue on the other side of bullet-proof glass and pushes you away without touching you. he's dark water and the night sky reflected in it. you run your hand through it and it pours out between your fingers, because that's what it wants.

(#thebatman #poetry #poem)

you hate me. you bear your teeth and spit my name. you look like a little boy still, with that smile on your round baby-face and i can't help but wonder, do i look like that too? under the mask? do we still look like we did the day our parents died? will we ever get older?

you pace around inside your jail cell, wailing like a dying lion, tearing your hair out while i build a wall between us. i know about your fantasy but it's too late. you want this shadow, this endless and bruised night, but the dawn has already touched it and opened its eyes.

you sing an ancient song, sweet and high, just the way god likes it. an arrow of pure agony to my roaring heart. how dare you turn the eyes of time to this room, when it has not looked at either of us since that worst of days?

they made you sing as a child. they made me sit in a house so empty you could hear the gunshots echo in your head as if they would never stop. what i would have done to sing.

now, there's an apology inside of me, hiding in a cupboard. there are questions inside of me, banging up against the door which i keep closed with my body. i won't let them find their way to you.

this is not my fault. nor yours. this started so long ago that most have forgotten. so long ago that the earth and the water can't even say. here's what will be remembered: the whispers of it that haunt the city will fall into my hand someday. just like you did.