My Butterfly Mind

When I was left in the wilderness,

To fend for myself,

To depend on only my skills to survive,

My mind became a caterpillar,

Focusing on only the primitive instincts,

Ignorant of the feeling of pain or love,

Ignorant of the jungle around me,

Focusing on only the edges of the leaf

Which I crawl upon,

Moving ever so slowly and clumsily,

Afraid of turning over a new leaf,

Afraid of leaving the only place I ever knew.

If I was to be forcefully plucked,

Every fiber of my being would resist,

Not daring to enter the hands of another,

To become just another pet.

 

I realize overtime that I cannot stay as a caterpillar forever,

As the leaf gets smaller and smaller,

The more I greedily eat in its shelter,

Destroying my only home by my own mouth.

To save myself from this harsh cruel world,

I surround myself in a cocoon,

Living a life of solitude,

Undisturbed.

Separating myself from the blood-thirsty predators,

Ready to devour my ever-growing body.

Blinding myself from these crazed animals,

Even at the cost of not seeing the glorious sun.

In this cocoon, I can sleep in the little world,

That I have created.

 

Overtime, this cocoon becomes too battered and beaten,

And can no longer protect me,

From the forces of the outside.

I have changed too much from the caterpillar I once was.

The cocoon’s silky blanket can no longer be the bed,

For this new creature.

Now my mind is a beautiful butterfly.

 

A battle arises between the butterfly and the cocoon,

As the butterfly is dying to be free and see the world again,

Dying to break this confinement,

Tearing it from the inside out.

Eventually the butterfly eats away at the cocoon,

And flies away as fast as it wings possibly can,

Shining off its color of brilliance,

Flashing its unique patterns and prints,

A magnificent work of art,

A contrast to the plump caterpillar it once was.

The butterfly is now free to soar to the sky,

Away from the evils below,

To see lands foreign to the cautious caterpillar,

To drink the sweet, sweet nectar.

But the cocoon is long-forgotten,

Left in the evil world,

Left to rot until its final days.

My shell of a corpse,

 Never flying the way my butterfly mind does.

Reviews

[Mar-Mar]

I enjoy how the leaf is viewed as the caterpillars home, and how when the caterpillar eats greedily it destroys the only home its ever known. To me, I think lots of people are like that. The more greedy you are, the more you seek to make yourself happy. But it never fills the hole, so they lock themselves away. And sometimes they never come out of the shell, but if they do. They are even more beautiful than before.
Great job!

[Crystal Heart]

Awww thank you!! I love to hear people's opinions and their interpretations. =D If you enjoyed this poem, also have other extended metaphors and abstract poems =D Leet me know if you are interested