When butterflies fall in love, do they feel humans in their stomach?

overthinking is the key
to destruction
and i have demolished cities

I was in a cage.
In that cage for so long, I couldn’t breathe.
But you came and broke me out of that cage-
Allowed me to believe I was free.
Free to breathe, to love, to touch.
Never noticing the walls slowly closing in around me until it was too late.
You brought me out of my cage,
only to shove me in a box.

I bite rabbit holes
into my tongue
before my confrontations
have the opportunity
to race past my teeth
and infuriate your
superiority complex
upon impact.

These confrontations
stick to the roof of my mouth
like burned marshmallows
dandruffed in black shavings
that taste of regret and fire

(I swallow them anyway).

Turns out
I was so preoccupied with
these suppressed campfire stories
that I did not notice
when my own lips caught flame,
kindled by all the words.
I've never had the courage to speak aloud.

Of course,
things are different now.

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)