i.
dark circles around my eyelids / like violets / makeup to cover it up / can’t let them see anything / being numb is better than being a tragedy / being pitied / being scorned / so sephora leeches off the money of me / hundreds of girls like me / who just need a way / to hide their hurt / to hide their pain / their sleeplessness / their anxiety.
ii.
i go through classes like a grandma knitting her mauve colored jumpsuits / mindless / mind wandering / everywhere and nowhere. i try my best to act as though i am even of some importance (i am not the only one who does this) / but every difference is ever so small / inconsequential / nothing matters / everything we make out to be big / is just us trying to make ourselves feel bigger / in a world that makes us feel small.
iii.
the velvet curtains close at the end of the day / looking almost like grape vines in the lighting. school bells ring / jarring / to some its a symphony / to me it’s a reminder / that i’m being dictated by a simple sound / at least now i’m free / the stupid bell says so.
iv.
home. what makes a house a home / my mom is cooking (baking? mulberry pie?) / she doesn’t answer the bell (i wish i could be like that / not answer to the bell / whenever i hear it). i see my brother / preoccupied with his video games / mind already taken over by the government drones / (please let me not be like that / please let me keep my mind / my sanity) / who do i tell about the purple butterfly / i saw outside my classroom window / while the rest of my classroom was asleep? / no one cares about the purple butterfly/ who do i tell about the butterfly that lost its wing after being caught in a plastic wrapper / in an invisible trap?
v.
i like to think everything about me / down to my purple colored shoelaces / is unique / different / but we’re all just clones, aren’t we? we’re all different shades / of the same purple / i thought the purple butterfly was unique / i’ve never seen a purple butterfly before / but i’m not sure if it thought it was unique / was it told it was unique? / if it was, would it have believed it to be true? / i would / i would cling to every notion / that said i was unique / tear myself to shreds / to achieve it / but still stay the same / as everyone else / unable to swerve away / unable to be like the purple butterfly / (like a coward / always wanting to be / but never becoming).
vi.
“work” (says the authorities) i work. free will no longer means anything to me / what is free? / if i was free, what would i want? / what more could i want? / the butterfly was free (i think it was) / it was free until its wings got caught and it couldn’t fly anymore. do i want to be the purple butterfly? free / for a fleeting moment / and then gone?
vii.
do i even have a choice / i never realized i had wings / are they black / are they white / are they broken / are they purple? / purple like the butterfly’s? / i don’t know / i will never know / did the butterfly know what color its wings were / did it notice how its wings blended in with beautiful orchids?/ did it know how big its wings were? / did it know the power those purple wings held? / i don’t know / maybe it didn’t know either.
viii.
my room / my safe zone / free from watchful eyes / watchful drones. i lie down on my bed / stare at the ceiling / the one i painted lavender long ago / fingerprints all over them (i tried / truly / to paint my room in different forms of art / in different hues of periwinkle / of purple) / i never liked it before, but now it reminds me of the butterfly / the patterns of its wings. here i am free / for a fleeting moment / like the butterfly and its purple wings. i’d like to stay in this lavender haze forever — just the butterfly and me / just us / far away / in our cotton candy heaven.
***
(Featured image is from Pexels, used under CC0 license)