That motherfucker He-man finally got to him.
Broke his spirit.
Spoke up and told him he was no Calaca. No Grim Reaper.
A skeleton of a skeleton. Destroyed his guard and splintered him.

His bones lie here. Inside the soil of Eternia.
Weeping and whispering,
                  I just wanted to be fabulous.

————

Sarah Frances Moran is a writer, editor, animal lover, videogamer, queer Latina. She thinks Chihuahuas should rule the world and prefers their company to people 90% of the time. Her work has most recently been published or is upcoming in The No Se Habla Espanol Anthology, Elephant Journal, Dirty Chai, Drunk Monkeys, Rust+Moth, Maudlin House, Blackheart Magazine, Red Fez, and The Bitchin’ Kitsch. She is Editor/Founder of Yellow Chair Review. These days you can find her kayaking the Brazos in Waco, Texas with her partner. You may reach her at www.sarahfrancesmoran.com