I was the butterfly
who spread her wings
a little too early,
a little unwise.

but though the cocoon
had turned black,
and grey, and blue,
and lights were flashes
of asphalt and gravel,
I could only imagine
that I was hurling
to my utter demise.

and as I fell
the wind and gravity
was caught to a sudden halt.

you caught me in your net
and I knew we were nothing
alike of the sort,
but my wings clashed
and curled,
and they weren't used
to your enviroment—

your curious eyes,
your prying hands.

so you let me go.

· ♔ ·