- Books, Literature, and Writing
Butterflies dancing in the dark
Pull up the nightshades
I want to see the moon
The wind has trembled my windowpanes.
I want to be sensual and courageous,
successful and remembered as the stars.
I want to feel loved, close and fulfilled.
I can't be breathtaking
or beautiful like a crouching tiger.
Voluptuous is not me.
Can I be special to someone
if not beauty is what they see?
When I am angry
I am frightened.
I want to unlace my soul.
When I am crowded I let go
and let it drain out of my pen like syrup, my soul.
Then I become unbuttoned,
I wipe away my tears and let my inhibitions slip.
I want to be trusted and to trust.
No more smoky science or locomotion,
random back and forth,
at someone else's direction.
I'll be the catcher of butterflies
and chase fireflies sifting in moonlight
my feet dancing on wet grass
no containment casing me in with bars.
I'll unstitch my guidelines
and my soul will drain my ponds of sadness
release my gloom unto the stars.
A cool breeze will fan my cheek.
My doom will rain away,
exhaling pain from my lips,
and let the moon shine gladness
into the wet pool of night.