to become the butterfly
the caterpillar must
hide
and crack
have its insides spill out
and become totally liquid
unstable and unmanageable
for one who
doesn’t know growth
the dance looks like destruction
and the butterfly must
appear as an angel of death
rising from its coffin
*
the loudest sound
comes just before
the string breaks
*
there isn’t a future
in writing for writing
isn’t a future of there
but herein
*
i was told when
i was younger that
hope was not a strategy
and in the coming of age
that follows unplanned but inevitably
i still hope
it isn’t true
This kills x
thanks bralowski.