love, icarus.

this is the story of my flight and not my fall.
this is the story of how I loved, not what I lost
this is a story of how I gave you my all- Apollo,
don’t you dare call me a tragedy.
the house of the rising sun was more than a dream to me.
I had surrendered myself to you long before I even knew what it meant
to want something so bad that its mere thought leaves embers in your chest.
it wasn’t wax that bound my feathers, but an eros- wild, unkempt
lord, do you not see
the glory in my surrender?
you're the closest to heaven I could ever reach
my wings only served their purpose.
you’re the spark I dreamed to chase, but never clasp within my fingers-
falling never felt so victorious.
and if it meant I could bask in the spectacle that you are
for just another moment
I would relive my collapse
I’d let you set me on fire yet again
for a mere flicker of your warmth
this is my story. I have no regrets.
my love, if only you knew how I felt
if only you’d caught a glance of these vermilion skies
that accompanied this maddened devotee's reds
if only the onlookers told you
how I laughed as I fell