A butterfly floated to my outstretched hand
Brushing my knuckles with a kiss from its fluttering wings
I sat, pondering it beauteous patterns
Calm, fragile and silent it existed
Cocooned from the outside of its shell
Though its pompous air left me agitated
With a swift vexation, I enclosed it
Crunched in an angered fist,
Opening my palm in disbelief
Its beauty outlasting my bitterness and death itself.
I tossed the creature to the ground, stomping incessantly
Grinding it in the dirt
But it kept coming back
Blurrier each time as mist covered my eyes
Burrowing my face in arms, hiding out of fear
Bawling and screaming for the creature to stop
A nightmare neverending
It joyfully fluttered back on to my hand
Once more reciting the cycle by heart in glorious silence
While dismayed I stared in disgust
Wiping my burning eyes awaiting the return of my vision
Grabbing the butterfly, ripping its wings off
Gently placing the dead creature on the ground
And cried til slumber crumbled...
