The day I told everyone I was a butterfly
But I was actually a moth
A tangle of frail ringlets painted gold
And underneath, a milky broth
My antennae twirled and wraveled
One might say they were unstraight
But different than the dragonfly
Who always looked so great
For moths, I knew, were stranger-
A common misconception
That we're rough around the edges and our brains scorned with infection
In their perfect, concave world,
everyone should be so gold
And Butterflies like dragonguys
The story always told
But I, the hopeless moth,
underneath a bed of crud
Will always fall for Butterflies
And pretend to share their blood.
YOU ARE READING
A Vacation to Hell
PoetryA collection of poetry written by me and inspired by my hellish life. There are hidden meanings in these, if your bored see if you can find them! Enjoy?¿ (Extra Terrestrial is my favorite)
