REVERSE METAMORPHISIS

REVERSE METAMORPHISIS


I was a beautiful butterfly.
You found me when I was a flower dancer basking in the sunshine.
We gracefully soared together towards the open blue sky.

Then the world changed color and the leaves began to fall.
We watched each one float away to finally settle dry.
So soon, the storms of winter came to crash their destruction.

I wandered.
Slowly I stilled becoming a chrysalis that could no longer move.
My wings crumbled.
Wrapped in darkness and quiet, I slept, I cried.
I mourned the days when we were butterflies.


A few butterflies flitted among the spring flowers praising the nectar I no longer tasted.
A ray of summer sunshine would flash its ultraviolet light but I never felt its warmth.
The fall winds tossed me cruelly until winter’s silence again filled me.
I slept, I cried, I mourned the days when I was a butterfly.

No longer cocooned I crept alone outside.
New layers forming as I walked away from the shells discarded.
I searched endlessly to fill the hungry void inside.
I closed my eyes and cried.
I remember the days when we were butterflies.

I turn my head to look up at the sky. I yearn to fly.
I remember the bright clouds and the endless sky.
Yet even now when I cry, I know I am no longer a butterfly.


By Me

3 Years, 2 Months - Black Arm Bands, Reclusive

Society should also implement the use of black arm bands again. I stood in the locker room stepping into a Speedo, pulling it over my old body. I looked at the young girls bodies, laughing. I did not look in lust or even admiration of youth and health. I looked in yearning. I wanted to scream. I was screaming inside. Can you not see me? Can you not see how much pain I am suffering? My husband died! My husband died! Can you not hear me screaming? I looked a little to long and had to turn away. They might wonder why I was staring. All the answers in their heads would never be the right one. I was not jealous of their bodies, or their youth, or friendships. It was not bisexuality that I did not recognize. I was not a dirty old lady or even rude. I was staring blankly screaming in my head. If I could only have slide the black arm band on after my swimsuit. Then they would know. They would quietly turn away and possibly stop laughing, leaving me in my grief alone. Nevertheless, they would know. It would not hurt so bad maybe if people knew. If the lady at the cash register gave me just a little extra patience because of the arm band. If people were a little quieter around me, a little more gracious, then it would not be so hard to go outside.