They never tell you about the soft pain

They never tell you about the soft pain

They never tell you about the soft pain:

About the weight of a pebble among the stones.

They said destruction comes in great events:

Not in months, in years, and oh so slow.

My hands are worn from the toil.

My back is bent from scouring.

And as I look back on the life I built;

I feel the taste of success souring.


All those dreams that had fueled me

Are half realized, half forgotten.

And this future I am building

Feels empty and ill gotten.


I was never meant to make it here;

Who is here is not me.

I lost myself along this pursuit of dreams

Because I refused to see.


I did not see me breaking my bones

To form this new, foreign creature.

I did not see me carving out parts

To make room for these new features.


Wings tore themselves from my back;

The sun burned my face to ash

And I touched the sky, I never fell,

But oh—but oh how I wish I had.


A/N: Wrote this one awhile ago. When I first realized I had to start looking for a job after graduation. As I was figuring out where to apply, I started realizing that what I had envisioned as a kid, or even just 5 years earlier, was so different from what I envisioned now.

It was disorienting. Then I had a hot cocoa and watched some Disney movies to feel better. But still. Churned this out afterwards. I was always fascinated with the idea of Icarus surviving the flight.

No longer man nor a myth, but a god. Because, really, how else could he stay aloft if he flies too close to the sun with wax wings?


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