Black butterfly,
You fly the same,
Gracefully with wings that flutter with
Such beauty,
Misunderstood,
As a dark creature with no purpose,
But with wings and metamorphosis,
What is it still?
A butterfly,
It may be dark , lost, shut out,
But its beauty is still there.
Absorbing the rainbows of others in its own wings,
Fly away pretty butterfly,
To another place where you will be judged.

You stand so tall, so prim, so proper.
Your every move is calculated, controlled, strained.
But your facade is transparent.
In some moments it is clear who and what you are.
In other moments it is like you become something else.
But not something so very different from yourself.
Perhaps you try to blend in with the trees,
    thinking they will hide you,
But you fail to realize that the trees betray your true nature.
Trees stand so tall, so prim, so proper.
Their every move is calculated, controlled, strained.
But really that's not the case.
They bend, they sway, they tangle and collide with each other.
They're wild and untamed,
   not in the way you'd think,
But it is plain in their design.
So, go ahead. Blend with the trees. You're not fooling anyone.

I have scars and bruises
in places where you'd have to
know me better to notice them.

                      On the corners of my heart,
                             in the ridges of my body,
                                   fuelled by my dark thoughts,
                                          engulfed deep into my soul,
                                    
                            
                                          they are all here.

They are very different,
as you might see,
because all of them are really
close to who i am;
every atoms of me,
and
                            every time I love too deeply,
                             or care too much,
                              too clingy, you know,
                               they re-bruise
                               and re-open.
                                  
Some people just know why
i always have so much armours in me
and dress up in colours
                        to bandage them up,
                                                
            ­                                                       and it terrifies me
                                           no matter how much i told them,
                                                                           they are just
                                                         passing   by.