I’m walking around,
Zombie like.
Face forward,
Eyes forwards.

There is nothing,
Left in my head.
Except the
Wings and bodies,
Of dead butterflies.

Those are rotting.
Wings turning to dust,
Bodies to slush.
Mixing disgustingly,
With the remnants,
Of my former me.

Rainbows,
Love hearts,
Butterflies,
And pink kisses,
Things of childhood
Dreams.

Dead now.
Rainbows fading,
Love hearts cracked,
Butterflies rotting,
Pink kisses turning grey.

The scent of death,
Blood and tears,
Cuts related to the pain within.
The things of current dreams.

Dead butterflies,
Are in my head.
Turing to dust and
Bodies to slush,
Mixing disgustingly
With the remnants
Of the former me.