I unravel in your arms,
no more than a tattered baby blanket
in your eyes.

eight butterflies instead of lines
instead of those painful repeating designs
eight butterflies, just drawings in any other person’s eyes
but to me they’re special
so i keep them alive
i’m starting to hate that red ink anyway

Your mouth is full of endless butterflies
Your lungs are full of roses
Your eyes hide the city of Atlantis in their depths
Your hair is loosely woven silk
Your skin is unblemished porcelain

Or so I thought

Your mouth spews hornets, wasps, and bees
You cough up thorns and brambles
Your pupils are slits, irises bleeding red
Your hair is rope, tangled into nooses
Your broken porcelain cuts open my chest

You were so beautiful
You were so kind
Your whispers were magical chants into my ears
But then you tried to **** me with your words

sleep now, my darling
it will be alright
you'll wake up in a land of butterflies and light
with no monsters to follow you
no need to rush through the night
just sleep now, my darling
don't bother to fight

i tried to stay
but i couldn’t find your heart
it was buried
underneath your hoodie
sleeves pulled over your fingers
you couldn’t let me in
but i understand
what it’s like to have a wall

---

you left, you said, because you didn’t know me
but i was trying so hard to open up
i don’t blame you, i’m not worth it
but you could have kissed me goodbye
i got a construction crew yesterday
they’re reinforcing my protection
it’s either trapped in or out
there’s never another way

---

i guess it’s goodbye, then

--

have a

good

life

“And to his surprise, there were butterflies coming out of his mouth.”

--- --- --- ---

Quite literally, nothing is literal. Everything is a grain of salt in itself, and therefore no matter what we do or say or read or hear or exist, we all die of sodium poisoning. Is that a possible thing to do? Can we live, breathe, exist even if we ourselves are but a single grain of salt to be taken with other infinite grains of salt? Can a grain of salt itself die in general, let alone die of sodium poisoning?

Ah, sand, then? No, that can’t be any better. What about sugar? Absolutely not. What is everything, then, if not a grain of salt to be taken with another grain of salt, and another, and another?

An extended metaphor, maybe. How many grains of salt does it even take to create an extended metaphor, though? How does one measure such a strange volume? Would the measurements even be cubic? Volume? Area? What does an extended metaphor look like? A paragraph, I suppose, so that would be area. But how big would this paragraph be? Average? How big is the average paragraph, and how would anyone ever count the endless amount of paragraphs being written everywhere and everywhen? Further research is required.

I find myself wishing much more than I ever have, or ever should, that there existed any kind of salt-to-paragraphs conversion chart.

you treat me so sweetly,  your favorite doll

you always play so carefully

you put me away in the closet when you're done with me

and when i rip,  you gently sew me back

you always forget that dolls have feelings, too, though

and you just get mad so easily

you always are physically ever so soft,  but verbally you just destroy me

you always just put me back in my box

but can't you see i'm hurting?

you only see the outside

never the tears

i'm just a doll
good dollies don't cry,  good dollies can't cry
i'm just a doll

so you leave without a second thought

i've been in your closet for so long

i'm all but a forgotten toy now

it's so cold in here

why have you left me to rot?

i cannot move,  you must know this

i can only sit and stare

i'm just a doll,  can't you remember?
i'm just a doll
i'm just a doll

my time has come
to an end
some people
can't handle
the weight
of life

your lips are a magnificent instrument
beautiful symphonies escape them
i'm in the front row,
lovingly observing your one woman orchestra
staring into your eyes.

i wish i had the ability to hear

just follow me, don't worry
please don't run away from me
just listen to my beautiful voice
and lose all sense of thought and choice
just follow me into my cave
forever drowning, a siren's slave
i must go now, to lead more sailors in
don't scream when i **** you, you know you can't win