Lifespans

There are days- flitting like
butterflies across
a desert, shocking
splashes of paint on sidewalks
droplets of food coloring in
gutters days
flashing
strobe lights in midnights
crying in a circus days
crying at a concert days
minutes
TOCK! TOCK! another second and you’re dead
TICK! TICK! another second and you’re free
days screaming at your soul, screaming
out to be heard, ripping
at your heart like paper
out of notebooks
Yes, there are days, they start
as butterflies and wither
into dust

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