𖤐 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚 𖤐

Fly, sweet Icarus, fly.

Past the marrow of clouds and the mouth of the sky,

Where gods do not whisper, and angels won’t go—

Only fire and silence and sun-swallowed snow.

The wax will not wait for your heart to decide,

So dare, even knowing the ocean’s wide-eyed.

For what is a fall but a love letter burned?

What is regret but a lesson unlearned?

They warned you of hubris, of heights made for kings,

But you—born of longing, of half-broken wings—

You saw not a prison, but promise instead,

Chasing the warmth where the fearless have bled.

Oh, sweet boy of feathers and folly and flame,

The stars carved your story, but not your name.

So fly till your shadow no longer can cry—

Eyelash wishes and birthday candles

The door stays open in this house

I am made of chamomile and fluoxetine

The magic died early

Swirled down the drain

Pretty lips you had to taste

The best of my worst mistakes

Will I see you in another dream?

Between nothing and nothing in between

I was the gate and you were just Heaven

Don't swear to me at the dinning table

Even if the music is sweet

And you can't see fire

Stars don't turn back to see if you follow

Now you're just another pill that I swallow

I am made of chamomile and fluoxetine

You're the girl who is trying to read

You're the one they call quiet

But I know there's a voice in your head that screams.

You're the one nobody calls for

No one asked how you're doing today

I know that you're crying

I know that you're whole world is grey

You think no one will miss you

You dream about drifting away

You try to keep your pain in a box

It's only 'You could have' now

You could have done this

You could have done that

You could have done more

You could have done less

You could have been someone

You could have done something

You could have been better

You could have been worse