Butterfly haunts me flutters by in the dark of night when the smoke cleared all that was left was a still photograph no breath to be had, no words to be spoken perched upon my mind where no one can see all the secrets that taunt me
Left behind in your spirit like an erratic zephyr they twist my head nothing sacred in how you fled the atmosphere I oft wonder have you found that freedom as you floated from this earth markings on the sky of colorless clues the painted scenery still not clear all that's left to do is exhale poetry
I lost my beloved sister to suicide, I think of her as a butterfly spirit on good days...