An anxious attachment.
An anxious attachment.
It flutters,
A butterfly,
Caught in a net,
Struggling to be free.
The dust of its wings
Sparkling,
Powdery
Iridescent smudges
Announce an end
To its flight,
As it tumbles.
A velvety crumple,
You can feel it,
Scratching,
Fighting,
Sighing in the hollows.
Dying in the ashes
Of yesterday’s sun,
A nervous ripple,
A tickle
In your heart,
Pricks it hard
With a stab.
A pin tack
Bursting a balloon,
You can still
Hear the echo.
A children’s party
That is always coated
In too much
Sugar.
And the rush
Fills your chest.
Ears pop,
To the music
Of a Chinese drum,
The reverb
Hurts.
And the bitter taste
Of butterfly
And rusted nails
Dissolves,
Into open warfare
With your soul.
In free flow,
A reflux
Of anxiety,
That keeps you whole,
But
Shakes you to pieces,
Bit by
bit by
bit.
And in the end
It is all you have
To remind you.