the butterflies
have lost their wings
but i can still feel
them crawling around in there

just like you once lost your hair
but you came back stronger than ever
maybe this will be a similar case

they don't flutter
they long to

though in their excitement
they just squirm

but they are accepting of their particular predicament

i look at you
and
they
wiggle
& wiggle

they are okay
with their particular predicament

and so am i

boxed wine
is my most
favorite
shape in
the world

i saw the ones i loved
or at least once knew
all in existential turmoil

permanent relief
was more accessible than ever
& people around the world
were standing in line
to lay themselves down

bittersweet
that the fear of death was
no longer an issue
but
only because it was overpowered
by severe loathing of living

first an old friend
standing in front of an empty grave
i don't think he even hesitated

then some women
i once knew
beautiful
even more so now
time doesn't deteriorate all
it is kind to some
the wisdom and hardening of existence
the stress
creates a diamond
but they would never believe
if you told them
So full of self loathing
feeling worth less than coal or
some other common mineral
in a materialistic world
my heart ached for them
while their aching would end for good

and then, at last,
my own blood
my brother
out of place
a sore thumb in the fray of
pointed fingers
poisoned by his own doing
weakened
and giving up
not much older than I
but aged much in strife
& i pleaded
& reasoned
& promised
& reached
but i shed tears & tears that day

i blinded myself from the vivid images
i don't think
i want to open my eyes again