Butterfly, poem

 

As if I am beneath your feet

Like a floor with which your feet pound upon.

I am innocent and  so wronged

A victim to this never-ending position you leave me in.

It would appear that you have scrapped all the flesh from my bones

Left just parts dangling in the wind for all to see.

Therefore no one knows the real me.

No one can see past your charades of caring.

I feel it when I see them staring.

I know they would as soon accuse me of ill will

But I am the one whose soul begs itself to love still.

Like a wilderness trail few will travel alone

Yet, here I am feeling this way, inside my hearts home.

If dreams could make wishes come true

I should just stop trying so hard to rise above this suffrage and deceit

When will I be able to finally retreat?

Torment some of you’re doing, some of my own

I need to sift through it, and refuse to store it up

As if it were something that I would later go back to.

I do not want to go back to those times, those issues

Like a butterfly formed from a caterpillar

I want to emerge beautiful and with purpose

Living each moment as if I had no recollection of the former times.

Not letting you take me back there, not for one more second.

Butterfly…

MwsR ❤