Wax and Water

i knew that when i woke you would be gone-
too close, too high, too late to hold your breath.
i felt it in the quiet of the dawn.
i knew one day you’d laugh yourself to death.

and maybe it was you who made the call,
that sunlight and the air were worth the pain,
and let your feathers go, and took the fall,
where only wax and water now remain.

i think you knew it too, that it would end
when there was nothing left for you to fight-
nothing left to break, or else to mend,
nothing but the water and the light.

you never should have faced the world alone,
you never could have lived without the bars.
i knew, i always knew, i should have known-
things like these are written in the stars.

before you even made it past the pier,
before you even built the wretched things,
the world stood still and mourned for you, my dear,
the moment that you dreamed of having wings.

1 2