Tiny wings

Just a little difficulty I had put into words

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1. Realization

A butterfly died in my tummy today
It'd been dying for a while
I can feel the decomposition 
I could feel the wings and it's panic
there was no wind, no water, no life to give it anymore
so I let it die in me

I can't absorb or digest whats dead
I can't move from the space in my head
I can't move

I don't want to move from the scene of this crime
It wasn't a hate crime nor was it manslaughter
I'm the victim and the prime suspect

pull me out of the case, baby
open the jar and let me stretch my wings
don't needle and thread these paper thin escapes

together 

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