Soothing Almosts
For those who are far too well acquainted with ambition
Sun boy, what am I doing wrong? Tell me, tell me. Tell me. I can’t end up like you. My wings will be stronger. Fuse them to my bones. This solder is so familiar to such an ambitious heart. I cannot end up like you. I can’t because they don’t remember how you flew, how you reached, how you stretched. They only laugh at how you fell, So ungraciously, so magnificently, so foolishly. I hope the salt of sea which buries you can salve such wounded ego. They cannot mock me like they mock you. That would kill me before I remembered the earth. But neither can I wait here, tethered to such infertile soil, looking up at Apollo’s house, knowing that I could be so much closer, that I might enter, dine at his table, that I could reach and touch him. I could do it, knowing what you now know, knowing how to not get it wrong. I can never get it wrong—that is how I die. That coming to earth is no pain like the beating shame that reddens my cheeks, burns worse than him. They might call me Midas, for all I want, and all I cannot live without. That life of riches is quite enough for me. I will earn it through this unwrought pride, Untempered and… foolish. Perhaps this is a mirror. Perhaps this is a prophecy. Perhaps I am doomed to your very fate— it is my punishment for even believing in something. But if I fall, when I fall, what lies in front of me is the sight of sun and soothing almosts, and knowing that I flew.
could not love this more <3