Butterfly Heart

11/10/22

When the curtains close goodnight,

And the crowd leaves,

Do you stay, standing atop your stage?

Do you marvel at the world you have entranced so entirely?

This is how i feel sometimes—

Struck by the wonder that is love and curiosity.

Sometimes I do not know where I am meant tos tand,

Or if I am meant to at all,

But I take my place where I see fit,

And watch the world tumble around me,

Crumbling to pieces.

This is my world of ruin,

And I wonder if I was meant to be its queen,

Or if things kind of just happened this way.

Sometimes things do that—

Just happen—

Why not?

I see you cry and I wonder where you stand.

I am guessing you do not stand as queen of your own world,

Raising it up or watching it burn.

Or maybe you do,

And this is why you cry.

Is the stress of the world too much for your butterfly heart to bare?

I mind not to watch the world change around me,

Rather, I embrace it.

I once stood where you did, though—

Not being sure where that was, exactly,

But I was there.

I was afraid to see the seasons come and go,

Never knowing where one would lead me.

I’ve realized that this is the beauty in this universe, though.

There is something special about being subjected to the whim of something we have no control over,

Giving us free reign to control the little things.

If we were to never have change,

How would we be to grow?

Watch the chaos crumble.