Butterflies And Glowbugs:Edit

Beefed it up

She said I look like roses.
I said she smells like she likes to lay with me.
She, is the razor to my slit leg slit.
And the red to my blood bouncing back oxygen.
She is the eye in my heart that only lets me see the good stuff.
Something like an echo splashing into the cusp of a river.
She makes my dreams crumble into the brim of their sanity,
in sanity, bumblin’ about some dream she had about the day she’ll leave me.
Like that white dove shuffling in the tree outside of my bedroom.
I said she feels like an angel.
She says I sound like her halo’s reverberation,
I said me crazy is what ya makin’ so stop with the knee jerks tryin’ to get me to fall your way.
My knees hurt every time your crutch clutch falls away.
I think we’re both full of s**t.
But sometimes that’s all right.
If you ask me, all times, that’s all right.
Like how no matter which way we hit the 4th dimension,
the zero space black holes will make us spin cyclical till we collide with our missing ghosts something psychical.
And if you look at me, you’ll see...I don’t know.
Ask her.
She calls me nothing short of something.
But she calls me nothing more than just right.
She says I am the skeleton with no backbone, a chiseled mess of perfectly flawed, and a whole bunch of nothing.
Sometimes my heart a heart like smokestack like plumes like heart.
She says I speak like God shouldn't, and I cry like angels want to.
I feel like porcupine, and I touch teddy bear, but no matter what she cries.
I make her sad when I'm sad, I lie when I'm happy.
She is a stones throw from my imagination, and a few moon moves away from my fickle feet fumbles.
A field and a half is all it takes in my dreams for us to meet.
I always ask her why she sniffs me like tulips do the air when they first bloom.
Bloom.
Bloom back heart beat like a harpie screach.
She says “It’s because I love you.”
And we lay, with the glow bugs enveloping our skin like light like sun like skin, by this time we’ve plucked the butterflies from our stomachs and threw them into jars along with the glow bugs.
Now we watch as they flutter in raves.
We just sit and feel the moment.
Teetering around itself and us like the end of the day.
Ready to crash at any second.
The walls bleed white.
My eyes, fade black and rock back a tune...
I am laying in my room, half asleep.
Searching the covers for any hint of truth.
Once again, all I do is find a butterfly.
I put it in an enclosure, with the other 58 frickin’ butterflies I found in my music sheets.
Every day she says she found another glow bug and a rose petal.
We just laugh, we don’t have the heart to tell each other the truth.

That we are more than a dream to each other.
But we both know one day, that we’ll let our butterflies and glow bugs roam in raves, for real this time.

Reviews

[Ruth]

Ooohh, nice! And when they can be free and relish the dream.....wow! Stunning! xx