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Do you see a shattered girl,
because I've been trying to tell you people all year,
I'm dying here,
like maybe I was flying around to start with,
but on the inside I'm nothing more then a Moth,
and you expect me to do the things butterfly's can do,
when I can't do more then attempt to mimic there actions,
Following far behind while all the butterfly's migrate,
but I can be miles away from my lover & still smell him from all this way,
because I'm stuck behind butterfly's,
trying to find my way to a better home,
and I will never get to a home where I can be excepted,
every place I get to I am to be greeted with fly swatters,
when butterfly's get loving fingertips to land on as if they were tired,
like they had to run from there death like me,
and everyday I fight for my life,
and the butterfly's live theirs carelessly,
so maybe I can dress in the outer shells of butterfly's that once were,
become the thing all people wanted me to be,
stop smelling my lover from miles the part us,
and let the world control me,
But even when I've given everything I've had,
In, to this ****** idea of a plan of normalcy,
just now you decide to say there may in fact be something wrong with me.
and that when I cut my wing on rose bushes,
so maybe I can feel something better then what you've done to me,
and you try to help me months almost a year after when I am close to death,
by killing me three weeks,
before my life span is up,
**tell me why butterfly's got it so good and moths gotta have it so rough?
just what I feel right now