What is this feeling in my stomach?
The butterflies flutter nonstop—I can hear their wings beating beneath my skin.
I feel them shift from side to side,
Claiming what little remains of me.

What is it?
What is this bitter taste rising through my throat, resting on my tongue?
Why can’t I hear the butterflies anymore?
Why do I still feel this?

My mouth opens, and all I spit is blood and glass.
The sour bile of what the butterflies once were grows thick—and I can do nothing.
“Spit them out, regurgitate them, let them go!”
I can’t.

I press my chest, and slowly my arms bind themselves around my belly,
Cradle of cutting kisses—kisses that now hurt,
And no longer heal the way they used to.

I rise from mourning, only to fall again, and the butterflies begin to flutter once more,
But they no longer beat like drums or echo like thunder.
They don’t crash against my walls or hide in my corners…
They are there, but not alive.

They try to climb.
I feel them fighting each other, pushing for space up my esophagus—
Once a path for all things good,
Now a tunnel for all things painful.
I hear them scream; their tiny voices pierce my eardrums and shake my bones.

They want out.

And I understand them well:
What good is a body that dances among broken hearts?
What use are shards beneath my feet,
Reminding me how little I’ve felt?
What comfort is the weeping of a soul grown weary?
What joy lies in the bottomless hollow of a body fed by illusions?
They were made for the sun—for joy, for love—
And all I can offer is an umbrella
For the relentless rain storming inside me.
Cold, decaying rain that stains the walls and soils my shoes, instead of washing them clean.

They’re almost free—
About to escape.
But I swallow them down once more,
Just as I’ve swallowed the bile of melancholy,
Just as I’ve swallowed the tears that swore, they would soften the blades of my sharp-edged heart.

I feel them sink slowly,
Their wings now still—they’ve accepted their fate.
I don’t want to let them go,
Because they’re all I have left.
They’re all I have of what once was pain.
They’re all I have of what once was passion…

They’re all I have of what once was love.

A heaving dog struggles to its feet.
Streaks of
the sun,
egg yolk,
lemonade,
coalesce in foam.
I look it in the eye
as it limps away.

I think my mind just threw up
                       in my subconscious.

Chunks of metaphor,
         smelling the bile

of an idiots question..

Blood rush,
Brain chained,
Teeth tied,
And here I sit

Scent
Intoxicating
Invading
Smoking out defense

Those succulent dimples,
That clicking mind,
That husky hooking voice.
Substitutes of a hungrier passion.

I feel lost,
I want some,
I need to forget.

Obsession is unbecoming,
Unwanted internal conflict
Ripe with dead dreams
Fighting harsh realities

Simplicity is all I want,
But each day
that lie
gets harder to say.

You are living
In my space
Without payment.
Leave me, please.

She delved in white,
     something so pure that was seamless
as though nothing could contaminate
          what was enthral in looks.

But beneath  the demure
  was a weapon pointing
                          at others hearts.
Onyx points, seeping with abhorrence.
showing that there was more than
                      her false pretences.

If a wolf has a blood lust it was her,
                  velvet soft, but blood seeps
beneath even the purest of looks..
                                     And hers was bile.

She stand there like a light in the woods
             of loneliness, but get to close
and her arrow will pierce even the most
                                                    loving heart.

Hear her white noise confusing the reality
         of a loving heart.
Bleeding it dry,
                    till only a corpse
of white lays before her. And she smiles...

The framed sign where I work says "smile it's time to be happy"
I see it every single day, it's so freaking sappy
I look at it in disgust
A simple sign that means so much

It reminds me of all I want, but can't obtain
Everyday it leaves me feeling a bit more drained
A bit more inhumane, a bit more broken
It's sad how it makes me feel, this simple token

Somedays I want to rip it off the wall
I'll just tell them it got broke in the fall
Other days I pray it will come true
Then I would be happy just like you

But still there it hangs
And every day it says the same
Made to endure it's mocking words
I know to others my rant seems so absurd

But in the belly of the beast it's impossible to smile
When drowning in all this bile

My life has been overwhelming to say the lest
I'm sure ready for deaths sweet release
The sorrow that has filled my cup
Has burst over and swallowed me up
Now in the belly of the beast
Waiting for deaths release
Drowning in all this bile
As problems just pile
Afraid to see one more day
Afraid of all that's coming my way
I want to close my eyes, never to open
I can't help it my mind is broken
My spirit is crushed
My life doesn't mean much
I pray for release
God can do that for me at lest

The framed sign where I work says "smile it's time to be happy"
I see it every single day, it's so freaking sappy
I look at it in disgust
A simple sign that means so much

It reminds me of all I want, but can't obtain
Everyday it leaves me feeling a bit more drained
A bit more inhumane, a bit more broken
It's sad how it makes me feel, this simple token

Somedays I want to rip it off the wall
I'll just tell them it got broke in the fall
Other days I pray it will come true
Then I would be happy just like you

But still there it hangs
And every day it says the same
Made to endure it's mocking words
I know to others my rant seems so absurd

But in the belly of the beast it's impossible to smile
When drowning in all this bile