I Alien:

Walk the earth, rather I float, pulled by a curious magnetic need.

My eyes present as two beautiful distractions. Green Headlights that confuse and disorient.

Meanwhile my predator brain is assessing and disseminating information up and down the rabbit hole of my consciousness.

I never look quite the same, I shapeshift into someone you knew or caught a glimpse of.

An amalgam of familiarity. Hiding in plain sight. Never so confident that I believe the ruse. A nervous squirrel forever gnawing at my core. Tight rope across my leaning skyscraper teetering over the edge.

The mask doesn’t always fit and my bone claw fingers slash but can’t adjust the fitting. My hearing is amplified to alarming levels of twisted imageries that extend into technicolor nightmares.

The beacon of hope is a thought that my home planet exists. I wander endlessly, Clark Kent forever in chains.