Whirlwind

 

I’m a whirlwind inside of my head right now

And the butterflies in my stomach!

They need no urge to appear.

Their fluttering gives me life. It’s a sunshiny feeling, I swear

But then the brutish grey clouds eclipse my warm star of fantasy,

Their cold, cruel droplets of misery blur my vision,

I can feel them condense on my skin.

The last vestiges of my stability shivering.

It’s getting everywhere, it’s clogging my mind, clouding my reason

In torrents, overwhelming; my butterflies are terrified

And the butterflies know only too well –

They must rise above the clouds.

Can they?

They try so hard, they really do

They are capable.

But somehow, instead, just as they reach the silver line,

Crossed wires spark a flame.

Five words uttered viciously send them into a frenzy again,

And somehow, instead, they just get stuck in that whirlwind.

I’m afraid of the rain.

Flung away harshly, disoriented, those beautiful butterflies

They’re lost, in a daze.

And they’re broken, they’ve lost their wings

And they’ve lost that charm, that sparkle, that grace

And no longer

Do they give me life.

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