hope, butterfly

remember your cocoon of fear?

you were wondering whether

you would emerge a butterfly

or wither and die;

spring always decides for you:

eyes shut,

wings not yet ready -

just threads of silk and hope

tying the knot around your frail secrets;

you wait to awake,

you dread the change

yet know it begins;

in your slumber you dream

always the same dream:

your wings grow and grow

until they turn into a wall of black leaves:

muted cries,

words that never carried thoughts

entombed in its dense foliage,

weighing you down -

you are no longer a butterfly 

but an unnamed body with a fluttering heart:

flying is just another 

endless sinking…

back to brokenness

breathing blackness,

lungs filled with nightmares,

ants of fear crawling on my neck,

tongue tasting bittersweet enchantment -

inky night going up in smoke,

dark leeches feeding

on the liquid silence;

only loneliness is solid:

a black glass pyramid

full of white lilies and

fragrant lies.

addicted to lies

broken mirror, black water,

crumpled desire in its narrow box

of guilt and other treasured trash

that you cannot part with;

music composed in haste, 

with a taste of “as it had never been” 

it’s two o’clock:

new words on her lips taste like honey;

there’s only one direction to go,

he laughs, staring at his face

in the night’s mirror:

the reflection is a hollow skull.

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