sometimes things that are so amazing, so wonderful… can confuse me. the emotions fog up the window (my brain is clouded with thoughts) when the fog clears, there are beautiful blue butterflies flying around (um...how’d they get there.). that’s what confuses me. could those be the same butterflies from my stomach that makes me nervous around you. or are they a pigment of my imaginations, feelings that aren’t true and made up. (a soft warning of pain to come) (an assurance of how beautiful i really am) (a demon ready to devour me) what is it. i name this little blue— confusion. she’s beautiful but quiet. maybe i need her company. eventually the truth will hit her instead of hitting the window (my brain is a pane of glass). you can leave this dungeon, papillon. fly! fly away with your gratefulness! be free! (my imagination runs wild like these butterflies) freedom awaits.