Wax Wings

Like Icarus, I too flew too close,
not to the sun,
but to you.

You burned bright in ways
I mistook for warmth,
a glow I thought was meant to hold me,
not unmake me.

But light like yours
was never meant to be touched.
Only admired from a distance
safe enough to survive.

Still, I climbed.
Still, I reached.

And what was once gentle
became unbearable.
A fire so merciless
it kissed my wings
until they forgot how to hold me.

Now I fall.

Not suddenly,
but in slow, aching descent,
each second stretching thin
with memories of us
flickering like dying embers
behind my eyes.

A life we built
burns in reverse.
Laughter turning to silence,
touch turning to absence,
love unraveling into something
that no longer knows my name.

These final moments
don’t feel like impact,
they feel like realization.

That I was never meant
to survive you.