Poem: Suicidal Butterflies

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Moths,

I’ll be your flame.

I’ll be orange and pink bangs outside your

screen door, ir-

resistible.

Please

fondle me in the dark.

Please

let greed be like meat on your eyes

while I bathe you in floodlights.

Moths,

flock to me.

Lick my luminescent skin.

You are stones,

my house is glass,

and I embrace my audience.

Moths,

surround me.

Shove your feelers in my open socket

and twist.

You are the electric cords.

I am the liquid.

Kamehamehahaha,

Know know please know

“you asked for this.”

Moths,

stop is not in your vocabulary,

so when I am fireworks,

or road flares,

or saving this fucking ship,

I am ruthless.

Moths,

I can speak your language.

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4 thoughts on “Poem: Suicidal Butterflies

  1. Please tell me if I am overstepping… but is this about rape? I got a certain feel, like there was a power struggle or someone was forced. I mean, you seem strong in the end, really powerful, but before that it’s really hard to read. Maybe I’m way off, but amazing piece anyway!

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