stomach acid

butterflies

reign on tile villages,

coating mold and

dust mite colonies.

.

echo me,

the hollowness.

show my mother

every caterpillar

your tongue

laid into me.

.

scream

out into the void

of my lungs.

my hands

will never

clutch my

broken chest

.

again

my knees

leave me weak.

broken butterflies

line the jeans

you used to love

on me.

.

white dots splatter

on the crystalline

mess I've made again.

.

you'll step- the

crunch will not

wake me.