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.
1 comment:
wow, I can relate so much to your butterflies
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