Icarus
Bite down,
hard, white calcium against soft, white flesh,
and rip me open seam by seam.
I can feel you tugging on the thread of bone tissue,
unraveling my chest one rib at a time,
until everything is exposed.
You noted the suction of a missing object,
a blank space ready for something to be placed.
My name is Icarus, I am made of wax and your hope.
Want to comment on this Poetry?
Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...
|
 |
|