nanda Jan 9

i have noticed
that the butterflies
follow me around
they flicker their wings
caress my cheeks

why are they so enchanted
by my old mess
my burnt skin
my scarred hands
my dried tears?

they kiss my eyes
shine on my feet
decorate my hair
every day there’s a new one

and i every day
i close my eyes
breath in deep
and feel them dance in my lungs
trapped by fabrics
of ill cut and sorrow
and just like that
i blow and blow
open wide my arms
let my mouth scream
they fly away
and into the world
into your eyes
and all around

saw one of those little angels and got inspired
BWriter Jan 6

All these years have passed and still nothing has changed,
So we have to march,
Against the abomination of colour segregation,
I'm just tired of all the lies I want to know what's real,
If I stand by your side will you show me the deal?
I’ve got the moon and the stars beneath my feet,
Will that be enough to free my speech?
Tried to climb peaks that were placed deliberately out of our reach,
They envy my life but I envy theirs,
Heaven looks great until you have to climb the stairs,
I capture my emotions in a liquor potion,
It's all good swimming with your tears in the ocean,
And if I can sleep tonight,
I'll let them know I wasn't afraid of the light,
Can you feel the fluttering inside?
Just come lay with me on my side,
And let's both watch the butterflies fly out of our eyes.

Sara Soko Jan 6

“I don’t know,” he said.
As I lay my head on his chest, I hold my breath to ever speak again.
And suddenly, I could feel the space between our atoms.

What should I eat?
A simple questions, but I only have one recipient in mind.
Only one person who knows me enough to know what I want when I don’t know it myself.
One person who knows what I ate yesterday, and the day before and narrows it down from there.
But, you don’t know what I ate yesterday.
Because I didn’t.
I ate my pillow and drank my tears.
The salt and cotton sat in my stomach like the butterflies used to.
But, those butterflied never died, they just got hurt.
Had their wings plucked off and bodies scorched with a magnifying glass.

I want you to like yourself as much as I do.
I want to like myself as much as I liked you.
I want to nurse you and those butterflies back to life one day.
Release them in the botanical garden and start a new holiday.

162 days until it’s all over and done with; real life starts then.
For now, I will play pretend.
Hide these feelings in the empty boxes I hoard under my bed.
Not to think about the empty spot in your heart and head,
where there was no room for me.

When I came home, everything was changed.
I found you to nurse and hold me, until love replaced the pain.
But with you, I was just hiding from it.
Like the boxes under my bed, I hide from their emptiness.
I hide from the raw meat body that used to take up half my spaces.

I have no foundation in this far too familiar nation.
Busy bodies twirling like ants from different colonies.
We will not go home to the same place tonight.

This is my first published poem. I hope you like it.
Idiosyncrasy Jan 5

He leans on my shoulder
I thought the butterflies were over
Even the slightest touch of hands
Makes all of them dance.

Still :(

If I'm being honest,
I press my lips to the glass
To follow you down.
I am a message in an opened bottle
But I keep pace
With your sips
Hoping our loose lips
Might, together, launch ships.

If I'm being honest,
I sip the nectar of intoxication
To make excuses.
I am sure of my sober thoughts
But I know
Under night's tender spell
Is where we might tell
All truth before morning's knell.

If I'm being honest,
I'm already one ahead
To calm my racing heart.
I have rehearsed this conversation alone
Hoping to finally break
Past the short ending
Through the faltering and shaking
To say the things we are longing.

If we're being honest,
We're getting toasted
Just to loiter.
We keep turning the hourglass over
Buying more time
With water in bars,
Playlists in parked cars,
And chilly walks under the stars.

Amanda Dec 2017

Every kiss brings butterflies,
Sends shivers down my spine,
Every kiss makes my world brighter,
Makes the sunlight shine.

Every kiss makes me weak,
My nerves tingle and jive,
Every kiss is magical,
They make me feel alive.

Every kiss is wonderful,
The only thing that is real,
Every kiss amazes me,
When our lips touch it's all I feel.

Kewayne Wadley Dec 2017

Sometimes when I think of you.
I think about your smile. The way you talk.
I am forever thinking about your laugh.
Sometimes I think about what you'd be like as a butterfly.
Fluttering about in your thoughts.
Nothing to hold you back from where you wonder next.
It's always at the strangest.
Most simplistic time that you appear and spread your joy.
As soon as your seen you disappear again.
Wandering about as free as you came.
Sometimes I wish I had your courage.
The strength to wander about as softly and freely as you do.
I admit, before I met you the thought of a butterfly laughing never crossed my mind.
The part of yourself that voluntarily gives without worry.
Bumping into the funniest of things.
Often times not knowing it's own perception of depth.
Sometimes I wonder where do you go when you miss someone so much.
If that reoccurring feeling ever leaves or does it continue to get stronger.
Finding a place to sit and wonder.
If you'll ever land on my shoulder once more

Sarah Burt Dec 2017

fuck butterflies in my stomach when i see you, i get the rush of wild mustangs trampling my body. the pounding hooves rattle my heart, and blurs of the meadow between heel and head hint at your blue-green eyes i so intently memorized. deafening neighs mask whispers in my head telling me to gaze a little longer. the force of their stampede whisks me off my feet just as your voice always does. but as the trailing horse disappears over the horizon, i'm left with the intoxicating feeling of your arms holding my broken pieces together.

Xaviera Allan Oct 2017

She deserves better
Than to act in the porn industry-
Her talents are better placed
In the sky.
It's cold, surprisingly-
But the clouds of winter haze
Approach on the distant horizon.
Let her breathe: ignore all the
Cameras. You can feel
The drop- in pressure/
Tangible youth
Because she pulls- at the heartstrings/
In the tapestry, she pulls- at the threads
Of time. There's no avoiding it.
An actress/ following the
Trails of butterflies-
She's fallen, in her uniform
She lies about her weight-
Lost in foggy meadows of death.
It's not like that- her face
Shouldn't ever be trusted:
Fueled by trash, the vortex lives.
Hear it- speak not-
Words don't work.
The sun will flash like lightning/
Illuminated her truth-
And clouds will come.
Like curtains to the soul, obscure her
Eyes/ for her own sake!
If you push her buttons enough,
They'll snap/ she warned you- she
Hides her bones. The
Untouchable beauty. Don't burn it-
She has enough fire.
Too many layers/ they conceal the truth-
If she could- she would- give
Them all away, to you-
Then laugh. But nature doesn't agree-
Instead, she will go in all directions.
Suffocate you, any way possible:
Over the lips/ around the neck.
Then she will laugh-
It's there, look again.
Missed it- the first few tries/
But the blood will rise,
And drench the the tides,
It will be revealed- in skin.

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