Dead Butterflies on the Beach


I haven’t cried for you.
You know those stories told
By mouth or pen or type or video
Those stories that are preceded by
“If you don’t cry at this,
you’re a monster.”
Or, “This will make you cry.”
It won’t let me cry. I’ve been
called heartless
sometimes even by others.
I haven’t cried for you.
It doesn’t mean I won’t
I guess
I don’t remember the last time
that I cried from sadness
I tried to force sobs one night
and it did not work
I have cried from laughter, though.
Those tears are more painful,
laced with traces of guilt
How can I be laughing
when I cannot cry for you?
For anyone? For everyone?
Not even for myself
You pulled yourself forward
without so much as a prayer from me
How delusional and detached I was
How selfish and unknowing and
how wrong
I was
about everything.
About your smile
About your mind
About your music and yes that matters
So much all of it shatters imagined.
The disgusting thing is, I wanted
to make you
A forest in my own soul and I’m still
Staring down your dust molecule
You have forgiven me
How can the world call you broken
No you are the only one strong enough
to ask
Taking into your own hands
Then the future
I am not the one
capable of being reached out to
Yet it was sent straight in to pierce
my shreds of humanity
Still you called me compassionate
I could not say your name
that would make it real
Not the nightmare I was entering
The nightmare you’d been living
For I don’t even know how long
I did not know what to say
And thus revealed the apathetic
imbecilic thoughts twined in my mind
I did not understand
I’m sure those answers frustrated and
I still don’t but I’ve tread close
I can feel a fraction of your thoughts
on that one
Just a minuscule moment of relation
how long since we’ve felt elation
Every disguised semblance of happiness
grief and brain and pain
scratches and four in the morning
any attempt of happiness
Not only that I am not happy but that
It feels like betrayal
I was in the ocean today and I saw
a butterfly determined to go further
away from the shore
They will call it unnatural
there is nothing more natural
than that,
wanting to leave your habitat
I thought perhaps it would stop flying
no more euphemisms, dying
Be eaten by a fish
Or disintegrate and become the wave
Someone told me today that I have
a positive outlook
I almost laughed but knew
that I could not
Sometimes we’re in too long
Nature does adore irony.
they once said I was depressed
not to glimpse your expression
(am I, now?)
The twisted part of it all, bitterly
Is that we all descend upon those
brave enough to speak
what we have all felt.
We have all felt.
Four in the morning does not
come like that for everyone
Seven does not hold such steps
for all heaviness within
I wish it would
Or that we never had to walk to begin
I now understand your emoticons
and change of the subject after
necessary responses
Can’t drag such out
Just focus on the details
The time for me
School stairs for you. Standing, still.
I drew a chair with footprints
thought of you throughout it
I saw two dead butterflies on the sand
Do not let the metaphor I made of life
One was washed into the waves
Perhaps it was the same
as earlier, finally achieving
all that it wanted
We have all felt.
And we are all tearing apart those
who say so
In our attempt to be normal
we forget that we might want
to heal others
Too risky now of course
I’m not much
Selfishly wanting you to pull
me through
The way you’ve done yourself
I’m afraid I’ve hindered
I know that’s the truth and tragedy
This is why they don’t reach out
But hands belong among one another
I will not snap out of it
I cannot say how sorry
We call rainbows beautiful and our
selves are rainbows
What does that say?
Do not look away from
everything that needs to be read
I can’t even tell it correctly
never could
The words left to you
Never, you said
I still could not cry for you


One thought on “Dead Butterflies on the Beach”

  1. Yes, I like this. It is epic, I’m thinking of a post I’ve been wanting to write, if I’m correct in my understanding of yours, there might be a similar theme. But from different viewpoints possibly. Maybe it warrants a discussion if you’d like to better explain it to me, on a different forum. I have a blank post in my blog you can comment through that might be more copacetic to a one on one.

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