Icarus & The Sun

By: VSH

Father,

Forgive me; it’s the last thing I’ll ask.

I flew as both Icarus and the sun.

You could not save me from this prison.

For this one, I made myself.

Father,

The Labyrinth was not physical,

But the monsters howling inside.

I inherited them from you.

And they laugh while they cry.

Father,

Maybe saving me,

Was only ever to save yourself.

Did you think your monsters would quiet,

If you saved mine from your bitter sorrow.

Father,

I think Icarus may have loved the sun,

And falling was never an act of shame.

But I never loved myself,

The heat was violent, and I was so cold.

Father,

Did you always know I’d have your brain?

When I was six, and dreamed, and dreamed.

Or at thirteen, when dreams turned blood.

Watching a child with your same pain.

Father,

I never wanted to be you,

But the crimson was warm,

A warmth inviting to the light.

It gave the monsters something to drink.

Father,

Please don’t say I should do more,

I already know;

It’s what my monsters tell me loudest.

And I want to be everything and more.

Father,

Closer to the sun, I’d soar.

A heat only measured by myself.

Hotter was better; hotter was more.

Blood was all that kept them quiet.

Father,

The monsters wanted all of me,

I wanted all of me.

What was the point if I didn’t give it all?

Was that how you felt?

Father,

I stare at myself as I fall,

And fall,

And fall,

And fall.

Father,

Don’t look down at me now.

Blood didn’t dampen the heat.

And your monsters won’t like what they see.

Wasted Potential.