Ripping.

Watch me rip butterfly wings, I want to hear you scream, I want to feel you pain, And see why you're so ashamed of me.

Rip,

She cringed.
Closing her eyes.
Feeling her veins run dry.

He ripped another butterfly wing.
She’d curl into a ball and cry.

Rip, rip,

He cut open her skin.
Her blood the color of crimson wine.
Another night she would die.

Rip, crack, rip.

The butterfly was dead.
And so was she.

Author's Note

a drabble i wrote a while ago.