My tummy is a desolated cave.
It was once a haven for beautiful winged creatures. Colorful butterflies which served the whims of my untainted heart. My kind of butterflies made me want to ask how you liked your coffee each morning. Oh how they rejoiced at that feeling of waking up beside you and thinking of what breakfast to make as I looked at your lips as you sleep.
How those butterflies grew lovelier each time we made love.
How they multiplied with each loving gestures you made.
How they danced when you held my hand while we walked..
How they soared high with each passionate kiss..
But oh how they felt cold when you started hurting me,
How they lost their colors when you took me for granted,
How they got so sick when you had another, not one but two others.
My butterflies saw a glimpse of your monster, and they got so scared.
I thought they were better off dead after that painful flight, but my heart knew better.
Those baby butterflies did not die.
They're just sleeping, hibernating..
Definitely not yet ready to wake up.
Their wings are slowly healing as they daydream of a happy ending that is yet to come.
When they arise, they promise to be soldiers of love once more, to willingly obey what my heart wants to do, for another chapter, for another love to conquer.
@Shyrene2015
These are my butterflies..
Shaken and weak but they are growing strong everyday.
How about you? What are your butterflies like?
