Butterflies
who once danced
inside my stomach,
crawl their way back out.

How am I supposed to say
I don’t love you anymore
with a throat full of bugs?

as little butterflies block an astronomical path
                         to draw fleeting halfshadows on the tar
as i scrape the salt from my flushed cheeks
                    with my trembling sugarspoon fingernails
as the way all things~oh hi love of my life
               lessness check out this here xylophone
wanna play old cartoon jingles with
          me i’ll join in sure haha this is fun
right right okaylaterthenbyebye
     hmm wherewasi oh right the thing…

as foreignhome landscapes are looked
                                        upon by me i ponder
                                                     and poorly breathe.

funny dreams. yeah.
           funny dreams.

Paint your ink all over me
We’ll see how things go eventually
But I think I’m drawn to the way you breathe
To the way you see me

Pick me up like your paintbrush
Like a habit you’ve had though we just met last month
Now all I’m thinking ‘bout is us

We’ll get lost in conversation
The world’s so hurt but maybe we could change it
You know I’m drawn to the way you think
To the way we dream

Pick me up like your paintbrush
You know just how to hold me with the softest touch
And still make me feel so much

in a world of glitter and tinsel
we are two visions of mori butterflies,
whose larvae eat the darkness of the night
like a white mulberry tree, leaving holes of light
on the forgotten silky roads.

Out there there's
harsh judgement and criticism
smart, stronger, funnier, better people
failure and society
beauty and pain

Out there there's
a child laughing
a butterfly dancing
kind people, smart people, successful people, me
love, hope, beauty in the eyes of nature
not society

Do butterflies realize their beauty,
The wonderful way in which they fly,
Or do they compare themselves to every insect
Wondering if they should hide their colorful wings with dye.

Do they admire their wing’s softness
Their calming patterns, soft and light
Or do they think there’s something wrong with them
If there's something faulty with their size

Do they hate carrying the weight
of those stunning patterned wings
Do they ask themselves why they don't look the same
Or do they realize it is because they're queens.

Do they recognize they have nothing to be jealous of.
That they’re special and unique
Those wings are part of who they are
And without them, they would just be weak.

Do butterflies realize their wings’ beauty
And know they need them to reach the sky
Because without them they would be incomplete
And would remain “butter” without “fly”.

Wrote back when I was in 10th class..
I wish I could recall everything but
Here are some of the pieces

A day after the full moon,
time when the flowers bloom,
A beautiful dawn,
It's Monday come on!!!

I went for a ride,
Saw a ******* road side,
Her pony tail white ribbon tide
and a smile,
Which she just can't hide.

Trying to cross the street
With black shoes on her feet
Her mustard outcoat attire,
She a ravish beauty I admire.

One hand on the pocket,
Other holding the bag..
OHH dear my heart just flew like a rocket...
Ohh God please
hold everything with a time lag.