Butterflies fluttering and flitting
in the pit of my stomach,
chrysalis splitting
palpatating rhythms skipped.
Fingertips that nervously fidgeted with a zipper
now fiddles with a
sliver, shiv
left buried between
disfigured ribs;
cataclysmic schisms
eviscerated
replaced with brittle bitterness
individuals ambivalent
whittled until attrition quits
grieving what hearts
could never give
a thorn
invisible,
kept hidden
amidst.
Heart shriveled,
withered
like a bullet hole riddled sieve,
the same exit wound
that left me scribbling this
pencil tip
like an incision slid
across the skin
ink spigoted
stygian rivers,
driven to splitting
images,
reflections
visages,
pretty visions vivid,
ripples taking with it
figments
lived within.