Butterflies
To the usual... though you know it not.

I feel like a butterfly, beating
my wings helplessly against the impenetrable
glass jar of your mind.

You’ve let me in, but I cannot leave, cannot escape…
and even though you’ve
let me in, you haven’t let in any emotions.

So you keep me trapped in this barren glass jar, no
grass or twigs of love and friendship
in here to accompany me.

Every once in a great while, you seem to realize
that I’m still in here, and allow me to show you
how much I love you… but you don’t show me.

You never show me how much you love me…
or even if you do. Any affection shown, is
merely acted out, forced through the tiny holes in the lid.

Yet… yet the only thing I can do
is keep watching you as you send love and affection to
all the others we know. They get it all… I get nothing.

So I’ll keep beating against the glass, hoping
beyond hope that these paper butterfly wings will somehow
break through this glass jar of your mind.