Icarus Heart

Time only flies when you aren’t

Looking for it. It’s a sea-bound piece of paper

That looks dry, seems solid

Until your life depends it.


Call it hope, the blood in your veins

Flowing without sight, believing there’s

Someone to push them on despite a lack

Of contract or even a promise.


Blood is only red when it feels

Reality. Like a desperate soul

Who’s lived behind walls, scratching the walls

Only to be overwhelmed by outside.


When your eyes crawl across the sun,

They drink its fire and steal a portion

To keep tucked in the void of an iris,

An unquenchable void for drowning a sun.


Call it self-pity, the pain of a life

Spent constantly looking up,

Praying to grow wings, to spread

Fingers across the sky.


Or call it the passion to feel something other

than desire, the soggy hope to feel blood

Drive itself to believe

That someone else is drowning

The sun as well.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s