"cracking,
whenever
she attempts to flip them.."

I don't like the use of 'flip' here. The rest of the idea is amazing.. but flip sounds odd with the idea of a butterfly. I would use the word 'flit' instead. Gives a pretty fluttery feeling and also.. wings flit. ;)

"till then,
I pray
she sees a new sunrise
each day.."

Ohh, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. I love this. So heartbreaking, with all the anguish you portray. Another one of your beautiful writes, my friend. Adore it.

This piece is so very descriptive, the imagery is vivid and the word choice is immaculate, I love it. The flow is so smooth, the tone so clear, yet your voice so loud in the midst. Excellent piece

This is magnificent in every way. I enjoyed the descriptive wording, it was creative and enjoyable. Emotions painted boldly , yet with tenderness. Excellent piece of work

Touching......a story of a little baby with impaired vision, lungs and ? brain (harming herself). Exposure to "substances" and nicotine?....so very sad. Is it FAS?

Very loving words for an innocent life from a mother's point of view, penned with dark perfection. Not the baby's fault........hope the very best for her. A heartbreaking tale...is all I have to say.

EDIT^

Thanks for correcting my interpretation above.

Who's wings are as
vulnerable as eggshells-

cracking,
whenever
she attempts to flip them..

To the reader these lines could denote immature, fragile limbs of a little baby girl.

my butterfly does not
see things clearly,
-self destructive-
she harms,hates
and suffocates herself..

My butterfly=my little baby girl.
The rest in here could depict eyesight and brain damage in a little baby, with the use of "my" here.

and with her
young bruised
lungs,
she one day inhales
more than just,
nicotine.

young bruised lungs= can be interpreted as my baby's lungs
inhales more than just nicotine= in the context of the poem being about "my butterfly" can be interpreted as second hand smoke damage from an irresponsible parent smoking away while her mother breathes on her.

Yes, the combination of poor eyesight, bad lungs and brain damage is also seen with FAS.

The reader made no mistake in reading this poem, either. To him this was the interpretation.

Yes, one can accept (per author) that it was not written for an unfortunate baby with FAS, but for a friend who is delicate like a butterfly, and self-destructive (smokes, does "substances" and harms herself).

Well penned, though.