Natural

same,
after same,
raindrops from the brain,
in the sky,
perpetually
falling
giving the sky a name,

I have no doubt
unplug the sunlight
fight it with all my might
there's no mystery to find

more fire burning,
smothering my candlelight,
a backdrop of sad music,
an ending to this idea of mine

do not ask about the failure
it's all I have left
don't call it a mess
it's my time

what I've learned
is that
butterflies
do not fly at all
they merely come back
to what was stolen
the only way they know
through their wings
like the eyes that find themselves crying