Poetry · Writing


it is like i am sick to my stomach

twenty-three six and you are

catching butterflies in my belly

putting them in a jar for your amusement

and you will release them

call me

and do it all again

will you ever get tired

you must be exhausted

my little fairy

delicate wings

untested skin

i think about you all day

every day

wondering if you will come out

i would like to see you

go see a movie

incredibles on blu ray

watch dogs in the park

eat food at restaurants

see a play at the central

kiss on rooftops

but you like catching butterflies

poking holes in jars

dancing where it is safe

but i know you want to come out

you do not need it

but i will protect you from the sun

and pick food that you will like

you might not think so

but you are worthy of love

this love

so come out

the butterflies will not go anywhere

they only come out for you

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