Of a Butterfly

a)    Prisoner

I don’t deserve that. I’m glad I’m not a butterfly because I don’t deserve wings. I’m not beautiful, and I’ve never felt more trapped. If I were a butterfly I could fly through the bars and into a new world. I’m an ugly caterpillar, but I’ll never get to transform and fly away.

b)   Fashion Designer

Butterfly patterns are so spring season. Oh my god. But if you’re a butterfly, it doesn’t matter! They wear the same thing day in and day out, and everyone still thinks they’re beautiful. What an epiphany; I wonder what it means. I have to get on that new design project. My boss says she wants something fresh and unexplored.

c)    Blind Person

For once, I’d like to see again. I miss the butterflies most of all. I used to catch them in-between my fingers like a cage. I’d take them into my room and watch them flutter around all night. So transcendent, free, saturated… I regret trapping the butterflies, because now I know how it feels to be locked in.

d)   Child

Butterfly, butterfly. Catch!! Oh no it got away. Don’t fly, little guy- I want to catch you! I just have to touch him. He’s so prettyyy. Maybe I can bring him to my room and let him fly around all he wants.

e)    Dying Person

That’s my only regret- not ever flying. Everything I ever did was safe. My desk job was safe, my lack of serious relationships was safe, my suburban residence was safe. It’s ironic that the last thing I’ll remember before the hospital was a bright rust butterfly, bobbing right outside my window.

f)     Cat

There she is. Bobbing before my paws. Unsuspecting my claws. I don’t have any flaws. You better watch out for the crunch of my jaws. My teeth are like saws. You’ll die as I knaw you, pesky air floater. My name is Poet the Cat, and you’re the tastiest thing I ever saw.

g)    Poet

Fluttering fiercely. No, lilting softly on a stream of silken flute. Like a forgotten summertime reverie, floating. Until the black angel of death overtakes our pure messenger, fallen like a lilac petal, into a sea of lost dreams. Metaphor of my life.

h)   Shut-In

Get it out! The outside world encroaches. Oh god, oh my god. It’s coming towards me. Leave, leave. It’s making me breathe harder; that’s awful for my health. Those things carry awful diseases. I can’t leave, if it makes me sick, I can’t go to a hospital. Don’t let it touch me, don’t let it touch me.

i)     Workaholic

That’s a nice butterfly. My girlfriend loves butterflies; I should take a picture for her. But I have this report to summarize by tomorrow night and who knows. It might take hours to perfect. And it must be perfect. And then I have that other project for next week. And I have to prepare that meeting for tuesday. Maybe I’ll call my girlfriend to tell her I don’t have time tonight. Calling would take too much time. Oh well, she’ll understand.

j)     Alien

Wheleikdn- aiel- shen- no- weeki- wol.

Translation: Oh no! A tiny fluttering creature! They may be about to swarm! It happens all the time back on my planet! I like the color purple but it hurts when they bite.

(Translation Debatable.)

Sage 

7-26-12