The Icarian Moth

There’s a dance that fire does.

The flames jump and sway to a rhythm none can hear.

Some men are infatuated by those spinning sparks,

Infatuated enough to crave more.

And more.

And more.

They see beauty in them…

Or maybe intrigue?

Beauty is not a word they recognize when regarding the world.

Money has beauty, not nature.

But whatever attracts them to that infernal tango poisons them.

They ignite the sky just to see the shapes play on top of it.

Their flickering form concealed by the ashes and sand.

Hospitals and schools look like lairs when the dust settles around them.

“They must be free!”

Those men cry,

While the chain sits in their hand,

They say they have bombs,

They say that they’ll kill.

They give you your qualms,

They’ll pass all the bills.

They want you a martyr,

To lay down your life.

That’s the war starter,

They’ll even buy you the knife.

“Them over there,

They want you dead.

So mutter a prayer,

And march on ahead.”

“Your life for freedom”,

That’s always the line.

The truth is kept from

The burning headlines.

The same war again,

Nothing is new.

Same lines from back then;

It’s just a redo.

Murder and death

Make no difference to them.

But for you it’s your breath,

And it’s you they condemn.

Greed guides them to oil,

Their wealth and materials.

They’ll put boots on the soil.

They’re all damned imperials.

So go out to the street,

Go scream and go rage.

Their own people they’ll beat,

Just for a war they can wage.

Don’t let them win,

Disturb and protest.

They try convince you of sin,

But they’ve never been blessed.

Stop all the pain,

The lies and the killing.

They lobby, campaign,

Do you remember?

All of it

From the high, to the low,

The good? The bad?

I do.

More so, I remember you.

I’m left asking myself if you remember me.

I shouldn’t.

I should forget it all,

Just like you may have.

The neglect, the cold shoulder,

That “fuck off” that haunts my soul.

Yet your face still shows in my restless sleep.

I tried so hard.

I apologized for the smallest things,

You didn’t even look me in the eyes.

I tried time, distance, distraction,

Yet your name is whispered;

Carried by the very wind.

So I wonder if my name crossed your mind.

Do you ever find my face conjured

In those moments of quiet.

Better yet, will you ever crawl back?

Because even after everything,

I spent years loveless.

Romantically, I mean.

But then you came along.

A perceived invader at my castle,

Though now I see you’re a diplomat.

An ally.

I don’t understand it all,

But comprehension is only half the battle.

Love is so subjective,

And expansive,

That I can’t possibly understand it all.

That fact terrifies me.

I live my life by logic.

Rationalizing is how I survive.

But love isn’t rational.

So I’m lost in a forest

Where the trees warp around me,

The moss holds my feet,

And the shadows hide the world.

But only for me.

Everyone else is walking trodden paths.

I hear their voices whispering,

But I see them not.

What do I do?

I’m lost,

But I’m ok with that,

But I’m also terrified of that.

A state of calm panic.

It doesn’t make sense.

It’s illogical,

Which means I’m lost.

Lost blindly wandering this wood.

The sunbeams,

They sketch your face into the dirt,

Into the leaves,

Into my heart.

It’s cruel,

In a way.

I know that it won’t work out.

No, I think it won’t work out.

Nothing about this is ensured.

Nothing guaranteed.

Not even my own feelings.

Am I attracted to you,

Or attracted to the idea of you?

Or attracted to hope?

I wish I knew.

Moreover, I wish I could say something.

I mean there’s no reason not to,

Right?

Worst case scenario we part ways.

Go back to friendly silence.

After all,

That’s where we were before.

But I can’t.

Once Icarus tasted the sun,

He could never walk among the weeds.

Not again.

That’s why he flew up, and up, and up.

He would either embrace the sun,

Or burn up.

He would rather die,

Then lose that warmth.

But I can’t fly upwards.

My wings started melting,

And I stayed stagnant.

The wax slowly dripping down my arms.

I want to hold the sun in my arms,

I want to love it.

I want it to love me.

If I go closer, will my wings stop melting?

Will I be reinvigorated?

Will I dance with the sun,

And prevent the onslaught of the moon?

More likely, I become an Icarian illusion.

My wings melt.

The ground rips me away from my love.

I fade into obscurity.

Become a myth.

A cautionary tale.

But if I concede,

And let the ground blanket me once more?

I would spend the rest of my days

Wondering whether the sun

Would welcome me into its arms.

I would be tormented knowing I never tried.

So thus,

I freeze in the warm light.

I’ll remain,

Knowing that the sun has glanced upon me,

And I on it.

But only for a time.

My wings will melt,

And I’ll be dragged back into the forest.

If I called out,

Would the sun be able to answer?

Or would the clouds steal my words?

Would trees hold my fickle voice hostage?

When I beg the sky to clear,

So that I may see you again,

Will it relocate?

Of course not.

The sky is an apathetic wall.

And this is just metaphor.

I’m not in a forest,

And I have no wings.

I’m playing video games,

And toying with words,

And trying to find a way to explain myself.

And I’m sitting here,

Wondering

Why can’t I say those three simple words.

Those words that have built empires,

And started wars.

Those words that have become a staple,

A cornerstone,

Of so many people’s lives.

Instead,

I’m sitting here,

Listening to music,

And writing a poem.

A poem for the world,

That no one will read.

A poem for you,

That I hope you never see.

A poem for me,

I didn’t expect you here.

To be fair,

I didn’t expect anyone here.

But you…

I’ve known you for years,

Yet we’ve barely spoken.

But here you are.

Here I am.

Does this..

Does this mean anything?

No,

Probably not.

But what if it does?

What if it does?

That thought..

That one thought..

Puts its arms around my mind,

And hold it like a long lost lover.

A familiar, yet novel feeling.

Nonetheless a welcome one.

So thus I say

Hello to a stranger.

A stranger I’ve known my whole life.

A stranger of joy.

A stranger so familiar.

I woke up and

You were woefully absent.

Missing.

Somewhere out of place.

There’s a looming shadow

That haunts that crease in the bed.

It’s a heavy feeling.

I never would’ve thought.

I still catch glimpses

Of your shimmer pacing the halls.

They once exuded euphoria,

Though now they bind me,

Like chains

Bonding that day to my soul.

It weighs,

Oh it weighs so heavily.

How long is left on my sentence?

I.. I don’t know.

There was no judge,

No jury,

No execution.

But there may as well have been.

I can’t find you

And that weighs

So