Protagonist
a little boy or a girl
or some being between
stares out from worn out pages
and looks at me.
their hair is messy,
their head hanging low
and their eyes are
as pure,
not white, as snow
snow because water trickles
from their eyes
to their feet,
melts from tears too big
and pain too sweet—
a tragic backstory
made for us to eat
with sharp teeth that sink
into juicy red meat.
in each book without fail
their blood makes them blink
see their fate sealed in ink;
the truth in the sky
is that Protagonist
has been written
to die.
that the only way
for them to win
is by carving the Resolution
from their own skin.
it matters not that they’re only
a child.
the cost of one life for many
is mild.
we rape their story
of its human voice
use it to laugh, to cope, to grieve
for characters have no choice
but to sit there and take it
the attention we give
brings them to reality
it makes them live,
and without it or us
they surely know
their pure eyes
would not glitter like snow.
pause for a moment and
look up from the pages,
for even before the story is through
sits a little girl or a boy
who knows it to be true
among the hundreds of books
they have loved & read,
Protagonist trades the world
for their head;
that the solution to save
their family and friends
is to make sure their life
meets a heroic end;
that such an act is lauded with
“how brave! what strong love!”
and applause
when the reality of death
does not fit like a glove
but suffocates
like some sick python or snake
and is not, by any means,
this heroic fate.
what are we teaching
these children to think?
that when their problems
reach a brink
they should thrust themselves
into the ocean to sink?
that they should devalue their lives
call it a sacrifice made
for the better of some other
whom they want to save?
that it is only a work of fiction
is true,
that the message they send
is not new is also a fact
that can be well-claimed,
as the author, I’m sure,
did not have the aim
of making this mental health crisis worse
with a fictional child
on whom lies a curse.
but the truth is that no one quite knows
why the rate of young deaths
continues to grow
and perhaps,
just perhaps,
there lies some small fact
that authors should approach
Protagonists’ deaths
with more tact.