You told me I wasn't you cup of tea
So I tried adding some sugar and cream
But by the time I was to your liking

I had gotten cold

we're fading away
and I can't do anything
just to make you stay

My dear Icarus,
Have you brought tales of gold for me?
You-- the master of self,
The one who held his own thread and shears.
Don't share of how hard you beat your wings
But how the air beat against your brow.
Don't echo your father's faded cries
But sing the songs of the Aegean sea--
Sing them only for me!

My sweet Icarus,
Is the world as grand as the travelers say?
Are crumbling maps and hand-spun tales nothing to compare?
I've read of Sicily, where your father rests his mourning head.
I've traced its rivers as they curved against my torn papyrus.
Sicily, the land of Aetna.
Oh, to watch the land shake at the beckoning of her call
(Oh, to fly free of these labyrinth walls)!

My darling Icarus,
Tell me-- is life better above the blanket of Grecian blue?
Is it better than what the Fates designed?
Is it better than what I hold today
(please, let it be more than today)?

My beloved Icarus,
Will you give me your wings--
The mingling of feather, wax, and dreams.
Will you give me your wings and
Your will to yearn higher and higher

So that I too can reach the city of gold.

i was Everything,
that I promised,
i would never be.

the books never read,
all alone on a shelf.
your thoughts on my wall,
words i never could tell.
my bed was unmade,
while i enjoyed the floor,
all the love that you had,
muted knocks on my door.
every screen remained black,
like a story cut short,
scented shirts in my closet,
from a soul i adored.
every night spent in illness,
by the morning was cured.