And Icarus F

and icarus f

e

l

l

for the

sun

and who are we

to blame him?

for tell me

what you wouldn't do

to be held by the

l i g h t

even if just

for a single

burning

moment

i swear that we once spoke about

the inevitable, but our last conversation

replays in my mind as if we didn’t

there wasn’t any name calling

or passage of blame to be felt

but rather something worse

you looked rather exhausted by my presence

and that has always been

one of my greatest fears

the idea that one day, the person

i love more than myself decides that

not only do they wish to leave but

insist that they must

because my existence is no longer

something that they deem vital anymore

(that night i cried for him on the floor) // kira malibu

Intimacy is quiet

Is the sound of your heartbeat fluttering against the soft skin of my palm

And our breathes syncing into delicate harmonies as we lay next to each other

Is the exhale of grief when our fingers intertwine

Is the stillness of the night when we are content to hold each others bodies

And make no promises

That will shatter the silence when they break

I keep writing of love

But what an imposter I am

For what do I know of love?

Of being held?

Of being desired?

But I suppose I write

Of love

And it's unbecoming

Of ache

Of writhing in your own skin with longing

I suppose I write

Of love

And the ugly thing it becomes when night falls and you have nothing to hold but your own inadequate heart

And I think

I know a great deal

Of this

Or atleast

Enough

To write a poem

Or two

I need help <3 I read this quote that went something like "Look at you, writing all the words you want to hear." Or "Look at you, saying all the things you wish would be said to you." But clearly, that's not what the quote said because google is being especially unhelpful. I think it was said by an old author, but I don't know for sure. Does anyone have any idea in the slightest of the quote I might be talking about? :)

If I may not be allowed the gift of being loved softly,

Tear my heart out and write love poems to me in my own blood.

Peel me open and plant promises under my skin.

Hold me fierce enough to leave palm prints on my bones.

Shove the world into my hands until planets are buried under my fingernails and denial is just your name on my lips over and over again.

Leave claw marks on all of my soft parts and refuse to stitch me closed before you leave.

Let me paint you scars in the shape of my longing and destroy universes screaming of you.

Demand I remember you. Refuse to let me forget.

Refuse to leave. Disintegrate into a hurricane on my living room floor when the mere suggestion emerges and shatter all my windows.

Love me until your existence against mine feels like waves crashing into each other trying to fracture molecules. Until every moment feels like drowning but oxygen burns too much.

Love me until our desire on your tongue feels like ripping stitches open from a still-healing wound.

Love me in the dark and to oblivion and back. Love me until we birth stars in our reckless passion.

Until we have no regard for past or forever, just for the sight of the momentary explosion in your iris when I call you mine.

Love me with your teeth bared and my fists in your hair. Love me sharp with no kind edges.

Love me until you have exorcized all the gentle things I prayed to the sky for and I am redeemed.

Love me into the end and to resurrection.

Love me until you cannot bear not to.

Love me until you are on your knees and begging for mercy I do not know how to give because you took forgiveness from me.

Until loving is synonymous with burning alive and I am a masochist.

Until I am ash in the crevices of your hands and you are a symphony blaring in my eardrums and we are undone completely.

Love me until you are the only hurt I will ever have to know.

~ I am sick of begging to be loved tenderly