Ten Butterflies by Ravenatawritingdesk, literature
Literature
Ten Butterflies
One for the things
I'm too nervous to say.
Two for the nightmares
That won't go away.
Three for the fears
That still manage to win.
Four for the people
I won't see again.
Five for the boy
I was hiding behind.
Six for the girl
I can't get off my mind.
Seven for the panic
Still stuck in my head.
Eight for the things
I should never have said.
Nine for the voices
That come late at night.
Ten for the lie
That I'm really alright.
Pen-scratch hopes and ink-winged lies
Because I always kill my butterflies.
I think
the butterflies are dying today
They scratch at my windows
with their tissue paper wings
Screaming into my dreams
Today is the day, I think they say
But in the morning the glass is silent
And all I see left are
fragments of kaleidoscopes
no hopes
Only powder stains
remain.