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Steven Muir
Poems
Mar 2014
Untitled II
I.
It's been
raining
II.
For someone
with so many painful muscles
painful bones
III.
I know it's
too cold outside for me
IV.
Where does a butterfly go when it snows?
If I were the butterfly
would my wings be broken?
V.
Keep quiet
little love
VI.
Am I
anything more then the trees
am I anything less
they take the rain and grow
and I shatter
at the slightest touch
VII.
A butterflies wings
are ruined
and though she sips the water from the stream
she is nothing
in the rain
Written by
Steven Muir
20/Transgender Male/Santa Clarita, California
(20/Transgender Male/Santa Clarita, California)
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