Chasing Butterflies

Home

I keep telling myself that I wanted to go home, but, what was my home? How could one miss something that was never there? How come I long for feelings of warmth and safety that I never felt before?

So instead I danced, put on my shoes and danced. Although my legs ached I still danced away my pain into a world of my own.

I danced.

It was all I could ever do, all I ever knew. It was my only escape, the only way I could feel something. Oneday I'd be Giselle, falling in love only to descend into madness and die. Or I could be Odette breaking the spell to come back to life with a love so strong. I could only imagine.

Looking back I was pretty pathetic. I filled a void for a while only to come to my empty bed aching all over. Still cold and hungry, shaking and alone.

I don't know when I became this depressed, but, I did. I woke up, sore, still I stretched and flexed. Tore my muscles all over, lying to myself that I was trying to achieve perfection, but was I?

I wished I could be that black bird peeping through the window. The reaper.