The story of Icarus is very interesting

and also very well known.

Falling, falling, and falling some more.

Yet, The Fool’s story is yet to have truly grown.

Daedalus warned him of the danger,

yet he never listened.

The bliss was unimaginable,

the melting wax on his body glistened.

Feathers floated from the sky,

reminders of Icarus’s failure.

Even though he knew he was about to die,

the soothing feeling of the ocean water on his burned skin felt like his savior.

Icarus fell rapidly,

his teeth bared into a grin.

His final moments were full of triumph,

even if it was rather grim.

Sometimes, I see myself as Icarus,

drawn nearer and nearer to you.

When I get close to your warmth, it burns me,

even if I don’t want it to.

When the feathers on my wings slowly fell apart,

I couldn’t have cared less.

For the pure feeling of freedom and joy as I fall

could never be something I detest.

The ocean below me is blue,

it reminds me of you,

of your eyes, paralyzing and true.

But what could I ever do?

The burning feeling of wax trickling down

wasn’t exactly ideal.

But once the cold, bitter feeling of the ocean hits,

my fate will begin to seal.

Wax on an envelope,

things coming to a close.

We never even truly dated,

yet this is the path I chose.

A release,

A relief,

A dream came true.

I wonder to myself, every single day.

Did you fall for me too soon?

Maybe you are the true Icarus,

falling after your soar.

Maybe I am Daedalus,

watching what I didn’t want until now be torn.

The regret in my heart is heavy,

almost like the soar.

For falling is a feeling of bliss.

Because even though I soared before..

To fall means to once have soared.

You made me soar.

And you soared long, long before.

Now, all I am is sore.

Covered in burns and burns galore.

Wondering how much I messed up,

to lose the guy I never even had.

Sometimes it makes me wonder how I lost you,

the one I didn’t want from the jump.