I remember as a quiet child
The summer days upon the grass laid
Banks of a timid stream
Sitting cross-legged, bending
To stroke the muddy waters
With a part of forgotten wood
And all around the warmth of
The summer's glowing sun

An intake of breath would
Bring the scent of tall trees
Bounding to my favorite nest.
footsteps followed shallow paths
That meandered to and from
The stream which gurgled as a child
In excited and gay temperament

I did then pause in rapture of my sense
And touch a life of serene sublime
A tender moment to solitude
Yet as I sat flat upon the grass
A gentle butterfly swaggered
In its pride of showy acrobatics
White and blissful in balance
With my sun-filled dreams

Nature showered in a halo of blushes
Collected the dusty corn colors of summer
And sprinkled then at my feet
For a secret wish for me to dare
Then... through my reverie
I heard some voices cheer
Some boys scuttled the biggest log there
back into the stream it sped
Some part cooled in water
Some part basked in sun

I recall the echo of buzzing beetles
That zoomed across the water
And were hidden by the distance
On the other side
Some dragonflies hovered with curiosity
In some infrequent time
The red and green of their wings
Seems now lost to me
They shimmered like chrome
Of tireless helicopters

This was a busy side to my young years
What with barges of driftwood
And scurrying air-traffic
Yet the call of the water birds
Stayed only after the sun had set
And leafy foliage lingered in silhouette
The birds crossed the sky with
To me a mournful cry
As a reminder the day had said goodbye

Yet little did I realize then
That in flowering adulthood
I would return to those summer days in sweet lament
And cherish that moment of child content.

Migrating white butterflies
Like snowflakes in mid-summer
Dancing on heat waves of January skies
Thousands upon thousands,
Can't tell one from another
This must be the celebration to summer.

Like some mystic fable they appear by magic
Their wild scattered bouncy flight
Springs chaos amongst all city logic
For they paint a rural innocent insight
To the mysteries of summer's secrets.

Their cascade is tumbling northwards
Like bubbles blown from a gypsy child
Hidden in these concrete woods
Hearts wild yet breath so mild
They simply pass as lacey summer reflection.

The butterflies of freedom are filling me.

I want to run, with the wind in my hair.

Towards the sun.

I feel light as a feather.

I can go anywhere, and do anything.

Wherever the sun will take me.

I am tortured by you.
you and your lack of words
               your lack of emotion
With each step you take I fall further behind, and not just because
your stride is bigger than mine
but because you won't talk to me.

The frosted glass window cracks
because you built up the pressure inside
and it builds
and it builds
and maybe you don't even realize the explosion your actions would have
on me.
or lack thereof
because maybe to you, there is no such pressure rising
There is no shrapnel aimed at you

For all I know it's in my head
where cocoons break and butterflies emerge
And the glass keeps cracking
My disjointed mind.
that makes something out of nothing
day in and day out
with every small thing that you do
or don't.

when that frosted glass window to your mind shatters
and the truth comes out
and the pieces embed in my skin
never to come out
Then I'll know it's over.
Dig your frosted claws into me
Rip open my skin
Tear out my heart
It loves too much too easily anyway.

I yet again wasted my butterflies on someone who was
unwilling to give back.
a fate I'm doomed to repeat
Because the butterflies are never satisfied
no matter who they land on
and for all I know it's my fault for breeding those bugs
in the first place.

It's true I want her
She would be my cure
And she's coming my way
But she smiles and keeps walking by
And I
Can't live with the pain I endure
Just from being around her
My chest is tight
I can't breathe when I think about her
My stomach is full of butterflies
And I
Hold my breath when she walks by
My head hurts
These feelings are so strong, I want to cry

I know I gotta get her outta my mind, it's for the best
It's because of her I haven't eaten or gotten any rest
But what would anyone suggest
That I stay away from her unless
She comes my way and talks to me, I guess
But that's not gonna help the pains go away in my chest
But it would if we did kiss

It's true
I am blue
And I can't have her
My head hurts
And my stomach is full of butterflies
And I
Can't go on living this way
But when I see her I don't want these feelings to go away

I commit crimes against my body to test for happiness.
A feeling that
I'm not sure
I know
how to
feel.
Yet
there's something
I love
about the way
it feels to
feel nothingness cling to my insides like pure, restless butterflies.