Brevity of a Glass Butterfly
Her kisses were glacial...honest
she devoured every star on which she rode.
At times, amber spirits would peal the veneer
expose the pulp of her mind so scarred.
One night the shine sprinted from her grasp,
living dullened that wild horse stride.
She curled up in my heart palm,
Wilted and worn-like a scorched flower.
Slashed by the lightning streaks of life...
Told me she was frightened of it all.
At times she wished to be weak, ( to sow strength?)
To be legless, aimless( to polish the stride of her wandering being?)
Just before her end she evolved back into a girl
Her heart became a cloud high paper wall,
On which everyone scribbled their hate...
Good enough to be used but not good enough to be loved.
Nobody loved her like I did. Nobody.
without condition
without restrictions
I treated her like a glass butterfly
built a path of flowers.
She shattered under the weight of life.
She was a powerhouse and weakness defined
a rainbow of disease
buckled
but
complete...in this brevity called her life.
R.I.P
K.P
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