Pupa

When did I stop trusting my own emotions? 

When did nervous butterflies become a thing of the past? 

I thought they were dead but their antennas were still twitching

Maybe their wings needed healing

Too many fingers lifted the dust from the velveteen tissue

The butterflies plant larvae into my solar plexus

Like maggots, they tunnel into my core 

What a lovely feeling that quickly turns to fear

What happens when a cocoon is torn into 

before the metamorphosis? 

Holes and pores, my skin pours sweat

I crept to the front of the van

With a broken gift in hand

Arms outstretched like a child

I like to imagine how soft your belly is

Covered in dew fur

The lightest and sweetest of flesh 

With the slow steady mountain of your breast

You talk big and spit your words 

Like maybe you’ve been bullied 

Or had love taken from you 

The maggots are eating holes through my organs 

They just want the chance to grow wings