This is what they didn’t tell Icarus:
You are allowed to swallow the sun.
Mother, I know you’re scared of the burning in my belly and some days I am too;
there are mornings I spit out ashes in the back of the alley and pray for broken wings.
I’d rather feel embers glowing in my chest than the heavy dark that claims so many hearts:
I was not born into a grave.
Mother, sometimes that ocean seems closer than the sky and I almost forget which I’m reaching for.
I’d rather die with two eyes open and two hands searching, always searching,
than live with both feet on the ground.
Thanks to everyone who sent me messages and were so encouraging as I’ve struggled to continue my stories. The ideas are there but the time and emotional presence I need have eluded me as of late. Here’s the next chapter of Embers. Thanks to @takemeawaytocamelot for being beta for this story. Special thanks to @outlandishchridhe for double checking this piece for medical accuracy.
A full compilation of my works can be found on my home page!
Claire could hear breathing echoing loudly inside her head. Labored, but there, along with the pulse of a quick but steady heartbeat. She followed the blood from her heart through her veins, vaguely surprised at the feeling of occupation as she made her way through the familiar inner workings of her body.