I can't fathom the depth required to indulge in trust.
The possibility escapes me at critical moments.
At moments of possibility,
At moments of change,
At moments of new life.

A larva.

Here is my word, hold it sacred to you. It is my life, hold it as
though, if dropped, the ground will swallow it whole.
Here is my shield, you may glance, gawk, or gaze, but
this I hold sacred for when the ground swallows my word whole and reincarnates it as everyone's air to breathe freely and wholly.

A butterfly.

You may have my word.
-----------------------------------------------------------­------
Hands stretched exposing their webs, and then
flexed into white-specked fists; and then again. And then the hands stretched. The ground unbuttoned as the word descended clawing at draped silk.

A butterfly, wings tattered.

Capture. Torture. Exploit.
--------------------------------------------------------­---------
The atmosphere was encompassed with dread and longing -
a smog of guilt, anger, and repression. Diamonds lied on their sides and bled tales that stung the ears of all in the vicinity.

A caterpillar, hope helms.

Bleed. Infect. Repeat.
---------------------------------------------------------­-------
Passerby after passerby shuffled along with wide eyes and hushed whispers. Faint feathers were pressed outward, hitting people like bricks and leaving craters behind.

A moth, lights negligent.

Judge. Sabotage. Forget.
---------------------------------------------------------­--------
Dignity lost and feeling next to naked. Covering myself with my token. My word builds; my walls build.

A larva.

Heal. Scar. Fear.
-----------------------------------------------------------­------
I can't fathom the depth required to indulge in trust.
The possibility escapes me at critical moments.
At moments of possibility,
At moments of change,
At moments of new life.