Icarus's blog: "Just South of Blue."

The last toy in the box
The serenade of grasping fingers
falling limp around sun-beams

If I
Had
Tried
Worked
Faster
More
Real

Would I run out of apologies
Would the plastic eyes stop staring
the hysterical laughter
the panic and self loathing
just one
blue day
disappear

What I said I felt
The things I knew I did to you
Would they lose what little meaning remained

What could have been
If I had just squeezed a little harder
Stopped a little later
Gave up a little sooner

It hurts to be here
Only a little less







































I want to stay.