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Flight Of Icarus - Blog Posts
I think about his story at least once a week, my Greek mythology hyper fixation is worming itself back into my brain
Icarus has abandoned me:
The cosmos cries comets, the moon bleeds lullabies, and here i am, icarus; i, who can bear the quarrels of fate and time no more. you sought the sun, but did the sun seek you back? does it mourn you, or am i the only one doing that?
Who's stars am i aligning, are they mine? certainly that is what i was told (did you not tell me that, icarus) . those promises that I kept safe so dearly in my pockets, how did they find me? who am i to chase after the remarkable (i thought i could, in the name of you, icarus).
i, who sought icarus, can hear him no more. i am searching. where are you?
it is your time to find me, icarus; search for me. heal me. answer me.
'I can't. It's too risky,' I tell myself, as I back away from the wings that lay in front of me, the ones that I yearn for, hope for. Live for. Those wings.
'I'm so close,' I argue, 'I've always wanted this.' Those wings.
I can imagine Icarus smiling at the stars burning in my eyes.
'Come,' he would say, 'Fly.'
I smile, closing my eyes, keeping those stars going supernova to myself. And I walk away. Those wings.
'I am no Icarus.'