The Icarus that I was
fell in love with the sun.
I flew high and fast and didn't waver for even a fraction of a second.

I thought that I had to work like that, tire myself like that to prove my love for the sun.
So I came closer to see if the sun really did love me back.


But I got burnt.

I fell.

I broke my wings so I took them off.

I can't say it changed me for the better, but it hadn't left me the same as well.

Now I roam around with my name but not with my self.
I looked up and saw that the sun hasn't changed.

   'Shouldn't you be affected by this?'
I asked
    'Why aren't you affected by this?! BY ME?!'
I yelled.

I was mad.

I was desperate.

I was in love and I was hurt.


But I was also wrong.

I shouldn't have wished for the sun to feel the way that I did. To fall the way that I did.

I lied down and took a minute to feel everything.

Without my wings, lying down felt different.
I could feel the ground with my shoulder blades and my back felt the way the grass shifted away from me.

I looked up and saw the sun going down.

Because the sun isn't always going to be there.

And in its place were the moon and the stars.

And just like that
I saw that I didn't love the sun because of who it is.
I loved the sun because the sun was also a star.

And who would be stupid enough to not love a star?