canta123

Icarus— there is a rumour that your father killed you, that he bent your wings until they broke and then told you, "Fly." If this rumour is true, then it lives in the throats of those fragile boys who wear your death like Cain's mark, whose tender hands split like swollen tomatoes when they pluck strangled seabirds, whose arms slump beneath the weight of their father's genius. And this rumour lives on the under-skin of their eyelids so that when they die or simply sleep they dream of their fathers or maybe just of Daedalus, standing with his hands full of feathers and wax, their blood-flecked down under his fingernails

She is not a flutterbird. Her fingers are skittish, her smile is not. Do not fear that you will drive it away. Sadness is her fumbling limb. It is unwanted, yet necessary. When it is January she will tell you, "I am still struggling. And I am becoming so many people all at once. A conglomeration of beauty that I have managed to mangle. Please, do not be sad for me." Sometimes her sorrow is meant for you. But mostly her. Those specks and spots of ocean storm lulls reveal her truths: ones she does not want to extract from herself. Her heart is not a rabbit. When it beats faster, faster, faster, you need not run harder

When I was seven, I was diagnosed with emotions. "Poor girl." I heard them say. "She'll never survive this one." I laid with my face towards the ceiling on the cold examination table, listening to them discuss my fate. I felt something breaking in my chest and something burning inside my throat. A small tear slipped down my cheek. "Doctor! Look at this!" Shrieked my mother, "Something is coming out of her eye." The doctor rushed over to me and wiped the tear from my cheek. He touched the top of my head as he whispered, "I am so sorry." And then he turned to my mother. "It's a tear. It means that she is sad." "Sad?" My mother asked inquis

In this strange universe I'd like to fade into you I feel like when with you I take breaths that are true I look to you and see truth No shadow hiding your true self My strange heart without a home Now belongs with you ---