I have been nothing other than a butterfly.
My wings were constantly touched because they glistened.
Under the sun , the moon and stars.
The transfer of my sparkle to your fingertips was harmful.
My wings became weak and fragile.
Breaking under the smallest amounts of pressure.
My mind cried for help as the feeling of life slowly vanished.
My body broke itself to keep to the standard of perfection.
As a butterfly , I brought joy but I never received.

How am I supposed to feel love , true love.
When all love does is break me into thousands of pieces.
Love should be black and white, simple.
But it is multicolored.
Some days love is red. Blue. Yellow. Green.
But never black and white.
I am scared of love. I am scared of the aftermath it brings upon me.
Love is a pill bottle that I'm waiting to open.
Love is an ocean that drowns me.
Love is you. You suffocating me.
Not with your hands but your words.
"I ******* hate you" is the love I know.