Your silence breeds deathly temptations within me

On the edge of my breaths I stood looking down to words that
should have been said ..
My toes linger on the edges whilst the wind finds its way through
the spaces of my body ..

I wanted you to pull me back
Yet, you remained in silence

Narrow, became the ground below my feet;
Pulling me away from existence

My weight fell before me ..
My soul followed the long fall ..

Eight letters down ..

I counted them as I ceased to be

But even in my death, the screaming echoes of your silence lived
with me

So I kept my headstone unmarked;
You shall always have a space to engrave your deathly silence

Whenever you’re ready ..
My grave will forever remain hugging its headstone

For my soul found its patience in death

So... What if I flew too close to the sun,
cimbing steadily through the open air
and my feathers all fell off, one by one.

Freedom and a reckless moment of fun
mixed with a child's propensity to err...
I know I will fly too close to the sun.

I left the earth with my song, still unsung,
drifted along, alone, without a care
and my feathers all fell off, one by one.

A chimeric mirage, to which I clung
and I pleaded Fates, my wings to repair.
So what, if I flew too close to the sun.

The journey over, quick as it'd begun.
Shining bright was the sun's terrible glare,
and my feathers all fell off, one by one.

The path once chosen, could not be undone
when caught in simple, Fates' auspicious snare.
So... What if I flew too close to the sun,
and my feathers all fell off, one by one?

Some days my bones weigh heavy and I
Can hear creaking down the back of my
Spine it sounds like my grandmother's
Chair in the middle of the night when
She sits in an empty room and knits
A spool of thread jumbled forgotten
Slowly unraveling this body of mine

Some days my bones weigh heavy from
The lives I am not living and from the life
That I am and my chest constricts my
Heart thumps as fast as the hummingbirds
Wings and my ears fill with the sound of  
waves crashing on some distant shoreline
washing dried remains of a moored whale

Today I am carrying my bones forward
Pressing out the air bubbles between
The ligaments and presenting them to
You in a porcelain case bound with a
Scarlet ribbon darker than my blood
So you can wash them with a new light