in the world full of butterflies, i wanted to wake up being a moth.
maybe then i wouldn't let my mind murder my wings if they turned out to be black and grey.
maybe then my colors wouldn't be frightened of my wiggly body; trying to capture them in the prison they could never escape.
maybe then the tulips would beg me to free them from sucking away their sweet nectar; poisoning them with my bitter flavor.
maybe then it wouldn't matter how the society wouldn't cast an eye on my ugly figure.
maybe then i wouldn't have to stand between the other butterflies high enough for my reach.
yet i am not.
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i am a moth molded into a butterfly with the clay of hopes and sacrifices.
i am a butterfly with could never flap wings and scatter bright smiles.
i am a butterfly which would sting away happiness settling on someone's palm and replace it with tincture of pain and fury.
i am butterfly which could pretend to be all mighty and glory and yet leave behind broken hearts filled with agony.
god, i wish i was a moth.
for at least then mom and dad wouldn't ask me
why did i drop down dead; covered in colors made of scars and left dying expectations to rot to ash?
