Butterfly wings, gently flapping
As soft as lashes against cheeks;
Delicate like sheets
Stained with ink
And a sleet of memories,
That melt and freeze.
Heat excretes from feelings,
Numbness takes you from me.
Everything turns icy, and clings
To skin and muscle and cracks in teeth.

Discreetly missing
What makes us incomplete,
Continually wishing for the perfect piece.

A slab of meat
That's shaped like me,
Whose flaws perfect
My insecurities.

A heart that fills the hole,
Half of an old soul.
The glitter that scrapes
Against fool's foiled fates.

The tongue was meant to taste
And our bodies meant to waste
So let us decay, with haste
As we breathe in a new day;
Unsure when time will wait
To help us find our way
Paved in faith, and naysay
A thread we strain as we stray
Against the grain of our brains.

Our shadows,
On the ground we paste
To stick and stay-
An eternal grave,
An ephemeral stain;
That night overtakes
And light washes away.

Still, in the rays
Dust floats with grace,
Like a butterfly
Gently flapping its wings;
Against the cheek of the sky
Our skin shall meet,
And disappear in a sigh.

-SLuR