"Carve the iron from my bones"
I wish there were another way

"Mold me, clay-like, into the idol of your adulation"
My skin burns from murderous hands

"Things bend and break at your wanton will"
Skeletal snapping fills the dusk

"Drain me of my marrow by 'morrow"
I'm running out of wishbones to believe in.

"I won't be me by morning"
But that's ok, because I've only ever wanted to be you.

-C

hands raised to the sky as he runs,
young and wild, curious, carefree;
sunlight bleeds through his fingers
not enough,
he wants to touch the sun.
you mustn't get too close, Daedalus warns him
and then Apollo smiles;

it feels like soaring,
being on the receiving end of
something so bright.
full of youth, seduction is easy
i think your mouth would taste like summer
he surrenders
slave to a burning star
forgive me, father

when he flies,
the taste of freedom
is sweet and heavy on his tongue
but you're not really free
sunbeams envelope him
his skin is golden; Apollo's touch is fire
he's never felt so warm
loved

i could destroy you
he's always been reckless
you won't
throws himself into the flames with abandon
it burns; it's violent; it consumes him
this isn't love
defiant, he smiles even as he screams
it's love to me

Apollo watches as he plummets
falling, falling, collapsing, wings singed and broken
gods shouldn't feel this helpless
it was love to me too
the slap of skin,
the crunch of bones breaking in the waves.
nothing could convince him to keep looking
as Daedalus screams
and holds his fallen son

gods bleed ichor,
gold like Apollo's light;
Apollo has eyes like a clear blue sea,
that's what Icarus once told him;
now Icarus paints the ocean,
bleeds scarlet into Poseidon's waters
and the sun god watches.
how fitting that you'd taint the ocean like you tainted me
Apollo's eyes are red from crying

was it worth it?
in the afterlife, he wears scars
where he used to wear wings
i'd fall a thousand times over just to kiss your lips
immortal now, his soul is sun-stroked
they'll write odes to you,
the boy who flew too close to the sun
even in death, his spirit is bright with innocent joy
he laughs
it sounds like Cupid's lyre

let them, he beams. at least i flew.

he leans in to kiss you. his lips graze yours, a careful brush, so close but not close enough, as the two of you breathe the same air. his breath is warm, his body is warm, everything about him is so warm when you feel so cold. next to him you feel like ice. and his touch melts your cool skin, and you’re melting, melting, gone. you’re kissing him, your chapped lips on fire. your baby is the sun and yes, you know this is going burn eventually. it burns already anyway. but you’d burn into ashes for him. you’d fade for him until there was none of you left.

his gaze leaves nothing of you. you burn until you smolder every time he looks your way. he’s older than you, and it’s almost like he’s lived so many centuries before this one. and he calls you “my love” and “baby boy” and he makes you feel soft even when you’re sweat drenched, even when your skin tastes like the ocean.

you’re on fire, but it’s alright. / there’s pain in this desire, but nothing’s felt more right.

icarus, your baby is a fire.
no.
your baby is a thousand fires.
your baby is a thousand fires,
and each one is so beautiful,
that you don’t mind
how heated
things are getting.

this love is tragic, dear icarus.  and although you know it’s going to **** you, or maybe even because you know it’s going to **** you, you can’t stop loving him, and the heat radiating from his skin.

you are more than the second child
you are more than your mother's eyes
you are more than your self-prophesied
self-inflicted demise
you are more than your downfalls and your doubts
wind in your wings under the sun's collapse
can you feel the scorch on your back?
the burns don't scar but leave phantom marks
from where the wax has melted.
apollo always smiled too bright,
so warm that it burned out your retinas
and washed the color from your irises.
the ocean will sooth the memories,
aloe vera for old haunts and past loves,
broken families and falling, falling,
falling

i feel a certain certainty
that i am going to burn myself
in the warmth of your fire.

i used to be so afraid of getting burned.
but the longer i'm in this fever dream,
the less i seem to care.

if i must be icarus
unable to resist reaching for the sun,
then so be it.
if i must be icarus
flying headfirst and blind,
trying to find your heart of hearts,
then so be it.

yes, he burned
and he fell.
but has anyone
ever known the sun
as only icarus did?

so let me burn
and let me fall,
fall hard into the cruel blue ocean waves.

let me know what your sunlight is like at point-blank range.

each kiss had me soaring higher
blinded by the sweetness of the sun
my name on your lips
just as holy as any sermon
they say falling feels alot like flying
until you hit the ground
but as the wax from my wings melted
sticky and red
i decided it was worth it
to be close to you
c l o s e s t  to you
for even a moment.

I feel sick, so sick of myself.
I don't exist: calloused layers of shell.
This world is sick. War is more real than Hell.
Does good love exist? Is it more real than Death?
What will you love when nothing is left?
-
No pain. No struggle. No strife.
The soil is poisoned. Seeds freed from cycles.
Tears salt the Earth from true peace disciples.
Purge odious life.
Behind the mask there is nothing.
Within my eyes there is nothing.
Before me there is nothing.
Embracing void. Immortality.
Cannot be destroyed. Empty.
Embrace the truth. Tranquility.
I quit.
I quit pretending.
Pretending I am not everything. At last,
I find annihilation
in you.

They say “eyes are the windows
To the soul”
And yours, my love,
Are made of stardust