With each breath of the butterfly’s wings
My ribs cracked open one by one Spilling out tangled vines and veridian hues To reveal a glistening obsidian cave Completely vacant except for a box of matchsticks Tucked away between a mouth and a heart “Ignite me” read the box And so we went up in flames
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I am your evening primrose
Blossoming in the darkest of nights. My boundaries have been cut And my roots stretch towards you As the moon rises in syncopated heartbeats. Under the erratic glow of night My soul begins to bloom When you water me with your words of sorrow. I feed endlessly on the vacant lot That is your sad, silly heart. Choking on the humility and vulnerability you possess My petals wilt and close up with the bitter sting of dawn. I will lay dormant for those unbearably bright hours Until you visit me with your nectar once more. With a fire in my belly
and your emblem on my soul the little worm of truth crawled out of my ear to see me triumph I inhaled the misplaced and unsaid words and exhaled foxes, setting them free The leopard and the owl sat in the snow basking in the warmth of my bosom watching as the worm kissed my lobe and I became consumed by the flames licking me up and effacing the remnants of your mark I was looking for a change, then you walked in. I was hoping you were it.
Fresh faced, innocent, with an honest sincerity. What I didn’t see was your blackened, corrupt heart. We danced like lovers in the moonlight, twisted my bed sheets into knots, and let the silence comfortably fall between us. Promises were made that I intended to keep. What I didn’t realize was the fear that they struck in you. Your ashen heart turned your facade to a wilting form and your layers began to shed. Slowly but surely your true character began to emerge, each getting more selfish and reticent. You poisoned my ears with words of sweetness, smothered my lips with a taste of delectable apricots, and consumed my body in a violet heat. I gave you entrance to my past that nobody was granted access to before. You glanced around my museum with little interest, and left as soon as you came. Heavy breath and tingling lips bring back the memories of your kisses and your touch.
I coax them out of the cage I’ve hidden then in with a tantalizing smoke. With each drag, I have the power to push them or pull them. Yesterday I wanted to bring them closer, so I pulled them into my chest. I felt the passion that had been knitted into a wooly, poorly made scarf. Riddled with holes and loose ends, I draped it around my neck and let myself feel the chill of it against my skin. The fabric was tainted with blood stains, apricot bits, and the smell of stale coffee and cigarettes. Fill my gaps and make me whole.
Pour your cement into me and smooth me over Watch me dry, but please don’t leave like all the rest Soon after you do I’ll begin to crack and crumble And then someone else will come along to fill me up. Maybe the next person will bring soil instead of (cement), And they’ll plant a garden in my (gaps). I grew every morning
And decayed every night It was a painful, relentless cycle One that the sun and the moon tortured me with But one day I took back my life By dragging myself up to the edge I looked up to the heavens And ferociously screamed “This is my blood and these are my eyes. You will not take me.” I pushed myself off the cliff And into the abyss I fell Now I’m stuck in the middle No longer growing or decaying Just being |