Guilty Butterflies

By FellowFutureFossil

There's a woman in my life
That I want everything and nothing to do with
Given then taken
Graciously then begrudgingly
As if these gifts
Are unfit for me, of a lowly rung
Destined for nothing
Giving then taking
Creating then unmaking

I can feel every single bitterness that is voraciously consuming me
Crawling on serrated edges and pins
Rejoicing below my untouched skin
Carving nests for festered affinity for a soul disquieted
Cabal of leeches and grins conspiring inside
Threading the wounds where her kisses dried
It is with neither compassion or penance
For which her sodden hands strive
But to see a breathing rorshach
Contorted in sordid reprise
Mending broken stitches with oaken promises
Of a dawn spent upon ground enthroned
Yet scores more in coiled unlife below
Acrid halitosis of truth
Licking with barbed petulance
Lashing the backs of traitorous dream
Propelled to living nightmare
Halting at the beauty of emptiness
Passing through glades where nothing grows
Deathly are the symptoms of sentience
Wrought with pliable loves and adversaries
The terriblest or prettiest of sort
Myriad fiends for the warmth of bleeding hands
And lips of twisting faces to not recall meeting
Hounded by tethered mystery
Sheltered phantasms in the moorland of memory

There's a woman in my life
I accidentally fell for her
Gracelessly plummeted for her
And I don't even know her name
I fell from an altitude I cannot recall
To where shed veils can stay me enthralled
"Could it ever be different?
Is there anything I can claim?"
At the root of me I know
That this is the way of the world
This souring shot of life
Brimming with a heartless cruelty
Drunk and spinning seated in taverns of love lost
Such is the rampant memory
Of a world now whirling away from me
Over a roseless stone
Celebrating the heart's vacancy
Unmourned, uncared for, unknown
Never to know my love
Or the surest extent thereof
These unwitting butterflies
Guilty of nothing
But haling my damned eyes
To the spectacle of their becoming
Thus winning divinity's mysteries
Scarcely beheld upon so cold a world
Hatched and set to wind
From a chrysalis unseen
To winged memory here
This ransacked garden within
And nothing else was more providing
Than her saccharine poetry in full
Spectral over the cinders of soul
Kissing withered blossoms
Etching promises to thrive
Through seasons risen sore
So now to find yourself
Taking it all back
And harder than ever before
The ongoing lines
Of the fabled "You and I..."
But a dreamstate parallel
Unwinding serpentine phantasia
To never cross your mind

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2016 FellowFutureFossil
Published on Saturday, January 30, 2016.     Filed under: "Poetry"

Author's Note:

Something I wrote on a bar patio. My attempt at stream-of-conscience poetry. Hope you guys enjoy (P.S. This is not about actual butterflies)
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Comments on "Guilty Butterflies"

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  • A former member wrote: Seems to be a very overly complex vernacular to say life is cruel for encouraging the demise of a love/hate relationship. Not sure that my interpretation is correct or not but either way don't take my opinion as bad critism. Don't dumb down your work for people like myself with limited capacities lol. I at least enjoyed the meaning I assume it to be about, and I love butterflies so the title drew me in instantly ;)

  • A former member wrote: An interesting work of confessional poetry. I might question the stanza breaks but somehow the account remains intact and made the mechanics less important. Good job.

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