This is a poem of a brokenhearted girl, the girl who hunted butterflies, with her boyfriend tattooed on her left breast, holding a japanese quiver, every launch of an arrow was a beautiful shot, She had fallen in love with butterflies with broken wings, She had been striving to be the only colored fly, her boyfriend,
the only man who was sitting in judgement, was in conflict with the racing chariots, that rehearsed across his door every 4pm, every move of his was diabolical, then he thought....he thought about the envelopes that came with stamps, stamps that glowed at night and transformed to wingless butterflies, he had now become so suspicious, like the caricature of a man with gout, ****** would work,
this was the jealousy of a stupid boy, who never knew about the tender acts, the acts of shooting butterflies, the beautiful girl had been plucking the small wings, of the shot butterflies, and had planted them under their bed, and now she had grown two beautiful wings, her only dream was to fly away with her boyfriend, she looked herself in the mirror,
the moment of trying the new outfit, she looked like a giant butterfly, our poor boy, the child struck with anger, waved a dagger,
like a bird she chirped and flew away, through the window she was gone.

I am the son,
The son of a beautiful woman,
Who has endeavored to obey the law, the law of laying hold of her offspring, in the midst of high-pitched cries in baby towels, and sometimes the foolish laughters, as she washed me with baby shampoo in the warm waters, playful like a tamed cub, and yelling 'tha tha tha' like I never was to say 'mommy' one day, or like I was never to accuse 'daddy' for not bringing more toys, but crying myself to sleep became a mandatory option, demand for breast-feeding, demand for balance coins later, then she said I was to learn how to earn my own, I was made to believe going to school will make me own real cars, she said I was never to lay in baby baskets anymore, so she opened the door, then "Go my Son, be a Man"

I have always trusted you despite the burnt flowers that I saw. We've eaten together in lonely parks with broken spoons and we've walked on the same path that had no excuse but to let us make a move. The hurricane of troubles and tsunami of dissatisfaction that tend to sweep away our allegiance will forever remain cursed. And any finger pointing at the soul that holds the truth will doubtlessly be broken for the fear of expression. Fake people will always be like dead horses, more like written off ferraris. No rerun needed to prove all I'm saying is pure victory, and when I wake with the sun in the morning, I hope my words will radiate with the rays in a prose that will make you understand that I still love and care. Tonight the moon fell between my feet and I thought maybe nature was cracking a joke. Hand on my chin then pondered! I pondered like in my brain wild flowers were sprouting, then something like a plague, but with a sensation of a neglected wise notion which flashed before my cerebrum and decoded itself as wisdom, then in a shimmering technique took captive of my thoughts about you, then transmuted every idea to a loving feeling ready to be expressed in a manner that will never run out of style just like champagne to a ******.

I am a friend to all, so everyone is my friend, I've been to clubs, restaurants and malls, and everyone I've encountered is kind, through boulevards and freeways, catch me and my friends switching lanes, overspeeding on these dangerous days, cause I can sacrifice anything for my friends, going out everyday, because my friends don't live with me, then we get drunk together and cause havoc, we walk in the alleyways trying to mock the police, but they never shoot! And guess why? The police are my friends too.

My spine is broken from the burden of your ungrateful heart, I have shrugged shoulders to the girls who can walk into the kitchen, just to nod my head to the girl who waits to be served on the dining table, I have swam beyond seas just to drown in your heart, I have betrayed my credibility towards the streets I was raised just to    follow the path that leads to your happiness, I have chased all of my dogs at the gate so you can visit anytime, you remember when I found you drunk in careless hands at the club? Then I embraced all the shame and welcomed you in my hands, I no longer see the essence of visiting mama every weekend, cause I've always dedicated my time to you, I have lapsed the doctrines of upholding holiness just to sin for you, now all these broken promises, overflowing tears and unpromising future, you have caused all this because you are ungrateful, and before this coffee hits the surface of my cup, ill make sure this love chokes you and see if you are worth it.