you are so fragile the lightest touch steals
your iridescence, scales coming off like faerie
dust powder in the hands of those who harm
you with or without intention, yet you still fly
in spite of the myth that you'd die.
your veins are the roots of the Mother Tree,
sprawling throughout your body, crafted carefully
by your mother and her mother and her mother
and hers, whether there is rejection or acceptance
there but the Mother Tree is yours, the center
of your very being, lying between two lungs
that carry each panicked breath that rushes
up your throat as you cry out at night,
"am I good enough?"
the answer is yes. there has never been a
moment in your life where you haven't been
you are the black sheep, wool grown so thick
so that no one can take your iridescence
and perhaps so that they would love you
more if you were dimmer than them but
growing wool as a butterfly meant covering your
body in ingrown hairs that painfully burst free
once they had grown thick from beneath each
of those thousands of shimmering scales.
thick wool that was watered by each
rejection that seeped into your bloodstream,
and made itself home in your roots and Mother Tree,
before making its way to your brain, and yet still,
they rejected you, and you could not go back
to the butterfly-skinned girl you once were.
your calling is to break curses cast unto you
by others and by yourself, to banish each woolen hair
one by one by one by turning yourself inside out
and straining your very ancestral root blood
with the healing that comes with learning only through
first unlearning. it is only a healing you asked for
and will follow through with for only the vulnerability
that they mistook for fragility could open the doors to you.
while you may never fly again, your butterfly-skin will
finally be able to breathe once more, wool shorn.
but this will be alright, because being a butterfly
was never about claiming the sky, it was always about
undergoing radical unbecoming for the chance
of transformative rebirth–of opening eyes that could
see more than they could before, ultraviolet high on esotericism.
who are you underneath all that wool,
About the Creator
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Expert insights and opinions
Arguments were carefully researched and presented
Niche topic & fresh perspectives