Icarus

Water fills my lungs, I cannot swim.

You said in my arms, you melted.

You said you were a candle, and I was the flame.

I softened you; I molded you anew.

You needed me to feel alive but I, I needed you to live.

And when it grew dark, I burned to keep us warm.

And when the cold winds crept in, you stood strong to keep us from falling.

We thought we would never extinguish.

Not us.

Not with you melting in my arms.

Together, we could fly.

Together, we were Icarus.

But now I see.

I see that you never were a candle, nor was I your flame.

You were too free to be a candle.

You were wings; feathers and wax upon the winds.

And I was too strong, too intense to be a flame.

No, I was the sun, and you got too close.

And what we once had, our Icarus...

Water fills my lungs, I cannot swim.