Icarus laughed as the sun scorched
his back, as the wax threaded his arms
and legs and turned him into a human torch.
See, sometimes life is but the taste of
freedom; it is but the blood in mouths,
hearts on fire.
See, you were always so blazing, so radiant;
I knew, I always knew that my heart on
the other side would never be the same.
Sometimes you come back, rapping at my
ribcage, asking to be let it; I am already
burnt from the wax and the sun and I am
drowning in the ocean - but if I could,
I would still let you back in
(I can’t, I can’t, I can’t).
I used to always ask: Icarus, does
falling feel like flying?
I know my answer now.
It does. It does.
you know when you say something
and it’s just
why the fuck did i say that