Everything becomes clearer- like the plastic has been pulled back
From the world. Exposed. And sensitive.
The slightest breeze sending goosebumps across your body.
A movement catches your eyes, a butterfly, with a broken wing-->
A broken dream, left to die.
But not you-- as you sauntered past
You moved on -> forgetting about that butterfly
Reminded of your existence with a look..
...a touch
Driving you closer- loosing control
NO- you never had control.
But just in time you reel yourself in- it's become a reflex now
A reaction to a reaction
No one sees what you just went through
No one helps a wounded soul
They just go about their business- forgetting you- moving on.
Reminded of their existence with a look...
...a touch
...the slightest brush of a butterfly
Passing them on the street
