Butterflies

at first

they fluttered around,

tumbling and turning in the breeze, 

each a single beautiful petal of essence.

 

now

they swarm,

seeing clear through me 

as the sunlight endows.

 

soon

i will be torn apart,

stabbed, poked, picked at,

and eaten from the inside out.

 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741