I feel just as Icarus
However, I'm stuck in a forever moment

between the flying

and the falling

Yet, I can never tell
If I'm flying or falling for the most part
I just know that the world is on slow motion
And my wings are constantly melting upon my body

I want you
So desperately to love me
But I honestly can't tell
If it is because I like you
Or if I only want to know
That I can make you fall for me
If I want to

You flew away from me
Then so did my poetry
Joy flew away from me
And all my ink became dry
Hope flew away from me
As every smile spreading up my cheeks
The sky filled up with flying things
Going so desperately away from me
Out of that my soul became deeply relieved
When Melancholy and Boredom stayed
When everything dripped through my fingers
I finally had something to grip on

I desire your wheat hair close to me
Enough to smell the sweet of your skin
I wish for your spreading smile
Beginning from that mischievous smirk
But when it starts to become reality
I shy away
Everytime you're too close
Everytime you take a bold move too far
I imagine all the time
how it's gonna be when I touch you
and all the changes that I get
I shy away

- Maybe I'm only brave in my head

That I won't read the end of A Song Of Ice And Fire
That life got harder after eighteen, when it should get easier
That no mystic creature showed up to take me to Camp Half-Blood
And most of all things
I just can't believe that after all these years
I'm still writing about you

- Do you even remember I exist ?

There's blue
There's green
There's purple in you
And red down his knees

There's that fun yellow in your arms
And a touch of black under her eyes
I search for the white of your hands
But they've disappear under the light

I miss the orange
It keept it a little lighter
Now we're left with gray
And empty ink bottles piled higher and higher

Water through my hands,
wind through my hair.

The resource I lacked the most,
and now I have time
coming at me in bulk
But the amount of free time drowns me.

Then next the realization,
isn't the amount of time I have that matters
its what I make out of it

I just spiral
all the possibilities;
I could write a book,
I could finish reading those,
I could beat up a game,
I could learn a new language.

And the more I spiral with the possibilities
time rushes right pass me
till I have no time left

And I just keep tightening the spiral
Spiraling down