We sent out a scream to the stars,
just praying that someone
would hear us. The silence
replied. “What were you expecting?
A god? Someone watching
and caring for you?”
So I whispered a plea
to divinity. “If you’re there
could you send me a sign?”
Only silence replied. Quiet echoes
of my own questions
found their way back here to me.
They tiptoed through
the darkness and settled in my
ears. And I mocked
the emptiness to mask the pounding
of my heart, but I
trembled and shivered in fear.

What am I doing here?

It’s easy to fly with these
wings made of wax.
But beware! Not too high, not too
close to the sun.
It’s harder to find my way
back to the ground when I’ve
severed the tethers
that held me so fast.

They say love makes a way
when the doors have all closed
in your face,
while hate fuels the flames
to your fire that burns
with a rage
and a passion that smolders
in your bones and
turns you old and
turns you bitter, steals the sparkle
from your eyes.
I have loved, and I have hated.
I am young, and I am angry.
Look ahead just to bury
the past.

They say nothing can last.

It’s easy to fly with these
wings made of wax.
But beware! Not too high, not too
close to the sun.
It’s harder to find my way
back to the ground when I’ve
severed the tethers
that held me so fast.

Euphoria drew me like a moth
to a flame. Broke the ties of gravity.
And I flew with these artificial
steel-and-wax wings. I
kissed the moon, and she
knew my name. She said: “Don’t
look down, love. You’re higher than
heaven, and you’ll never know
just how high ‘til you fall.”
No, don’t look down now. We’re
taller than angels and
stronger than giants and
larger than life.
Close your eyes. Please don’t look
down. You’re lost in the
asteroids, and you’ll never find your way
back to the ground.
Don’t look down.