DREAMS OF BUTTERFLIES
Perhaps one night you’ll dream of us
Of all the little butterflies you made
The parts of you that sprouted
From the shattered glass of you
The faces that you wore before
The masks you ripped apart and hid
Now buried in the lonely tomb
That bears your name within its frame
Please dream of us as we do you
For we were you as you now are
Growing up is sacrifice. Money, time, affection, and so many others are surrendered in the pursuit of happiness. But what of the self? How much of a person has to be sacrificed to become more efficient, more effective? What happens to the parts that are deemed unnecessary by the world?
I only want to reclaim those parts of myself that have been hidden for so long. They are as much a part of my growth as any other thing. We can only grow through acceptance, not denial, of our true selves, I believe.