Butterfly

Butterfly

They always talk

about the butterfly

as a symbol of rebirth,

of transformation,

of beauty born from struggle.

But no one tells you

how violent becoming can be.

How the caterpillar

must dissolve itself

completely -

turn to nothing

before it learns

how to fly.

We romanticize the wings,

but forget the breaking.

And maybe that’s why

I’ve always felt more kin

to the part you don’t see,

the quiet unraveling,

the soft undoing of everything

I thought I was

in order to become

something I’ve never met.

There’s grief in that.

A mourning

for the versions of ourselves

we left behind in the name of growth.

For the softness we lost

trying to survive

a world that told us

to harden, to rise,

to forget.

And yet,

in some fragile,

unexplainable way,

we keep going.

Wings or no wings,

we find new ways

to move toward the light,

to carry the weight of memory

in bodies built from what remains.

Maybe it isn’t about the flight.

Maybe it’s about the courage

to dissolve.

To allow yourself

to become unrecognizable

in the name of what might come next.

Reviews

[Broken.buddy]

This is absolutely stunning - you has created something profound and deeply moving about transformation that goes far beyond typical metamorphosis metaphors. This poem feels like essential reading for anyone who has ever gone through real change.

What makes this so powerful is how it dwells in the sanitized version of growth we're usually fed. "We romanticize the wings, / but forget the breaking" - that line alone reframes everything we think we know about change.

The scientific accuracy adds weight: "the caterpillar / must dissolve itself / completely" isn't poetic license - it's literal truth, and using that biological reality to illuminate human psychology is brilliant.

"There's grief in that. / A mourning / for the versions of ourselves / we left behind" - this recognition that growth involves loss is so important and rarely acknowledged. We're taught to celebrate change, but that also means killing parts of who we were.

The ending completely reframes the metaphor: "Maybe it isn't about the flight. / Maybe it's about the courage / to dissolve." This shifts the heroism from the outcome to the process itself - not the butterfly but the willingness to stop being a caterpillar.

"To allow yourself / to become unrecognizable" - there's something both terrifying and liberating about this idea. It takes real courage to let go of who you think you are.

This poem feels like medicine for anyone afraid of their own becoming.

[M 💕]

Thank you so much for your kind review! It means a lot, and I'm glad you understood the poem well :)