For me.

I gave you a wing. 

A butterfly wing. 

It was my most prized possession. 

I’ve had it since I was young. 

Little me was playing in the garden and the butterfly was hurt. 

I tried so hard to save it. 

Cried and cried for hours to my mom. 

“It’s okay sweetheart. It’s the way of the world”

I never looked at the world the same. 

Such a beautiful creature. 

How could it have died? It’s job was to fly and flap It’s wings and give us humans the pleasure of watching their pretty colors. 

It was innocent.

I saved it in a little glass box.

My mom helped me put it together in such a way that it wouldn’t wilt away. 

I never thanked her for that. 

She preserved my almost broken heart for this butterfly in the glass box right along with it. 

When I met you, my heart mended itself. 

I though “The butterfly broke it, and you fixed it.” 

I made another little box. 

Opened my own and gave you half of my butterfly. 

Half of the part of me that was still a little shattered. 

I was hoping you’d fix it. 

Restore my hope in humanity.

Restore my hope for….. Everything. 

But you gave my box away. 

You didn’t care for half my butterfly. 

You didn’t understand what it represents. 

I forgive you. 

It’s not your fault you didn’t understand. 

You didn’t realize that you could have fixed the broken butterfly and make it whole again. 

Maybe you didn’t want to. 

I understand. 

I’ve found another battered butterfly since then. 

I tried to save it but I failed. 

Now I have it locked in a box.  

A box made of glass too. 

This one’s gotta lock on it. 

And I threw away the key. 

When the right person comes knocking, and thy really want to fix the broken butterfly. 

They won’t wait for me to find a different key.

They’ll just break the lock.

They’ll break the lock for me.

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9 thoughts on “For me.

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