Butterflies

Ashes flutter around me, as time moves by. Mounting heaps of clichés, trying to fit them within the clockwork of human thoughts.

It will not work. I rest. Eyes closed, hoping to not see.

Blot out the thoughts and pin them like dead butterflies.

Preservation.

Eyes close, eyes open. I rest, I breath. I live.

Swimming in a fish bowl

I wish I had a choice; there must be another way…

There isn’t, life is like the bits of shaving cream that’s still there after you are done, equal parts of white lather and tiny pieces of hair. It all gets flushed at the end.
What does it matter? Life? Live it or lump it.

***


The title is a reference to the song, Wish you were here by Pink Floyd. The lyrics can be read here and the song itself can be heard here...