Butterflies

A Poem by cass

I'm as subtle as an anvil to the head, but oh well.

There are butterflies in my stomach.
I smile and pretend they tickle
as they flutter under my skin
around my heart
up my throat.
They want to escape.

I can’t eat anything with the butterflies in my stomach.
I chew and swallow
but there is no room for food in me.
They take up too much space as they flit and fly,
energy vibrating down my veins.
My fingers shake with every beat of their pressed-flower wings.

The butterflies in my stomach are thirsty.
They’ve mistaken my blood for nectar
and I can feel them draining me.
It must taste sweet because
they can’t stop.
They’re as helpless as I am and I can’t bring myself to fight them anymore.

I want to cut the butterflies from my stomach.
Drag a blade across my skin
and watch as crimson wings free themselves from the prison I have become.
My fingers are claws, nails turned to knives,
and I can feel them
just below the surface.

There are no butterflies in my stomach.
I am shaking and empty.
I am filled to the brim.

© 2015 cass

Author's Note

I'd just like general thoughts on it, how it can be improved, what I do well and what isn't working. Thanks in advance.

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Reviews

Bear

Well done! A very powerful and expressive description of an event that everyone who ever has or ever will live and will be experienced many times in their lifetime. From the first day of school to asking that special someone out on a date the first time. I do question one line "I smile and pretend they tickle" shouldn't it be "I smile and pretend they (don't) tickle"? Either way it was a pleasure to experience as well as read your poem, I look forward to reading more of your work.