Elysian-Tragedy

The sun was always too bright

The warmth suffocating;

Each bead of sweat rivaling Icarus’s plummet towards his predetermined end,

Yet this is not bliss for me.

This is racing hearts,

picking skin,

biting nails,

pulling hair

Until the grey area of emotional self-harm becomes the starving artist’s used paint water.

A life cursed long before conception

I long for a

Dinner of praise

Followed by dessert

Garnished with recognition

Though my stomach does not growl like it once did and

My heart misses my sleeve.

I may yet understand the boy

Who paid a smile to the Sun for

Wax’s scorched embrace

And the mirage of flight.

Kindred recognition lies deeper than just one’s opinion of the weather

I once compared

the aroma of flowers

To candy

As a symptom of

My first long-term love.

A callow young poet,

The one who’s security deposit

I kept

When she broke

Her lease on the space

Behind my eyes;

She loved Candy.

A film of discarded

Silver wrappers forms to each

Crevasse and crease

below my foot

Her security deposit covers

the cleaning costs,

But I bear the

Toothache,

Trauma,

and Therapy

On my own.

Each day

Each week

Each month

Between her and I

Further disclose my mistake:

Not all flowers

smell of candy,

but Bleeding Hearts

Always do.