Moth

I sure wish you’d

come looking for me

crawling through a hangover

of bleak misanthropy

alone in my thoughts

there with no relief

just drown in the bottle

of my hate and my grief

too short of a window

to jump or to climb

a pain burns in my heart

that I’ve buried inside

that box where it’s kept

walls rotting apart

no light to be seen

only black, vivid dark

where once blue skies sang

now I only see gray

the present a gift

I’ve felt long thrown away

tiny and trivial

now nothing of note

just that blip and the speck

a knife deep in my throat

........................................

but those purples and greens

created in life

and held in your dreams

propelling you far

wash your feet in the stream

with your net and your jar

run through the woods

forget all your haunts

the coulds and the shoulds

frolic and roam

just don't ever leave

because at that time

you'll find and you'll see

that beautiful butterfly

that once you had caught

sadly turned out to be

only a moth.