My Wings = My Soul.

My wings are still off a butterfly;

Fragile & frail,

Yet, now somehow resilient & strong without fail.

Because I’m still alive and breathing.

When I look up at the stars,

I’m at awe and amazed.

And I somehow don’t feel alone looking at millions of them.

I’ve always suspected them to be angels in disguise growing up.

Last year has been a year of growing and aching.

A year of gaining and loosing friends.

I must learn to look back at it as a year of learning.

But I’ve sadly had a huge loss of my creative self.

Never mind about rejections and breakups from boys that I wouldn’t last with,

While those do hurt a lot, I stopped caring as if it’s now a temporary thing to let go.

After few years including that year, I lost my imaginations, creativity, and some perspectives that are of a soul such as myself and everybody.

I’ve gained a lot of those after the traumatic loss of my dad.

They’ve painfully & slowly burned off of my soul.

Replacing them with nothingness and trying desperately to hold on to what keeps me going.

I’m not one to blame anybody but I can count up to 5 people I blame that exact huge loss on.

Not my dad, because I remembered how and why

But my energy & creativity.

For my grief and anger are now in the colors of hell.

This year I’m learning to get myself out of hell I’ve been living with.

A brilliant singer once sang “my soul is painted like the wings of butterflies.”

As I see that I’m using my wings.

Not an angels wing, mind you.

For my wings are and have been of a butterfly.

Fragile & frail

And yet are now resilient and strong, without fail.

Thanks to my Heavenly Parents & my Savior.

But me telling this isn’t the end at all.

It is and will forever be a work of progress. The beautiful thing is that I don’t ever have to wait to be happy and loved at the journey’s end.

~Christina C.~