Butterfly wings

She, the captive butterfly…

Air squeezed out, and lost…

Locked tight under a tough wing

Now no room to fly.

Her wings are pinned down with bloody nails.

The emery board beneath her,

Strips the opalescent colours… now black.

 

The ruler  -

He, above stands…

His massive claw engulfing tweezers

Picking at her black blotches.

An ugly mug, twisted

He contemplates improvements…

In her sedated slumber,

She soars high in the sky…

While he picks off the wings

That once fluttered.

Reviews

[patricia]

you captured this so well...i would much rather see them in the garden..there's too many good lines here to pick a favourite. it was all so good. thanks.

[Michael X]

your words capture the feeling of suffering in prison, then death and renewel. flow is word sculpting, each word grabs ahold of my imagination, beautfiully tragic ^_^

[Divinity Sleeps in This]

Sounds like a bad relationship. Poor darn Butterfly! So turquoise...

[MOON]

Beautifully written and told in effortless flow.

[...]

. powerful ...
. and incredibly poignant too ...

Wonderful write, has a certain deepness to it...

nicely written.

[Muse]

This reminds me of a poem I did called "Fish in your Bowl". It's about being torn apart....your very essence...and your very being. Letting another make changes that are against your will. It's a sad sickening metaphor...but all to real to me.
This is beautiful penning my new friend. High scores.

Muse