The amazing thing about people is that time doesn’t really measure how much you know them.
It’s confusing to see people you’ve known for years to become a stranger to you.
Or someone you are with to somebody you used to know.
It’s crazy to witness an unmasking of a fear you never really know was there, a pride that was always in its slumbers. A sadness that you have never noticed even through the mirrors of the soul.
Or a laughter that was always behind a poker face. A laughter behind all the anger. Beauty under the darkness.
We cannot blame people for changing, because in most times, they never did change. It’s only about how they have chosen to reveal themselves to you, and how you have managed to unveil them.
Sometimes, it’s about who you are to them and they to you.
I’ve tried to understand how our story went
and now I know
that our love is that of Icarus and the Sun
too blinding, too risky, too deadly-
it was meant to end as fast as it started.
I am the blinding Sun you’ve yearned for years
but you’ve forgotten you’re made of wax
so on the day you finally flew near me
you find yourself melting away slowly
At the end, you walk away like they’re nothing
As I have loved you more, you suffocate
because you become less day by day
While I burn brighter than anything else
I am the Sun
You are Icarus
No matter how much I hold on
I’ll just kill you.
And you have killed me, too
by telling me that those short days
meant nothing to you
and by letting me pretend
that we haven’t shared
a few days of passion
a few days of ecstasy
But on the days after you’ve left
I find myself no longer wishing to be with someone else
And I envy how you seem to be okay
better, even, without me
while I’m getting dimmer
until I fade eventually.
— for the Sun is meant to be alone // hrh
art by: Gabriel Picolo
Why are stories of angels
being cast away
were always about them falling in love?
of how they have gazed
upon a face
and felt their souls ache
longing for greater than what is above
Yet, even as they are damned
they would do everything
to protect and save their beloved
They say that being in heaven
is being home
maybe that is why
angels would rather
have their wings stripped off
– So please don’t ask me
why I love you more
than I should. // hrh