Butterfly effect

Listen, words are like butterflies fluttering through rooms

little open books with pages spread

Wings beautifully painted

and nerved. These nerves I imagine

composed of hundreds of tiny words unread unheard.

Read between lines as air is stirred

with little effort and great flair

They keep a record of parables, draw parallels effectively

motifs of motives in motion

They are present, you see

but the stories dearest to me are hidden within history

I got gut bugs within me. They say time flies.

I have caterpillars inside having knife fights

with history book worms

over which can stitch silk heartstrings to my spine

all my laughs, all my tears add segments to their bodies

that petrify to turn into inscribed butterflies 

wings full of consonants and vowels

cocoon body bags left in bowels

of my bodily watch tower

My skin holds history as I watch with my hands before my face

I hold the truth I confess. I’m clockwork, I guess I tell time

eventually time will tell

but just as time I too will pass

It’s a quarter past

a quarter past late

came, came out late

It’s a quarter past, cause they just got laid

Laid to rest in my chest waiting to morph

But the swat team is at my footing picking the lock in the door

They would swat me down to the floor

Please please, I’m down on my knees

They called the police, told me to freeze

Read me right, please

I will serve time in all wings of the pen

You have the right to remain silent

anything you say will be held against you

hold your peace, no need for violence

if you don’t believe,

book me to detect what lies beneath

cause I paint many images poly graphically 

but

no one gets to see the chrysalis in me  

but I’ll testify to the metamorphosis

let me speak my piece of sentences shortlived

the pendulum swings against my bell jar mouth

glass lips crack to let butterflies pour out

let them fill the room and settle down

read their wings bound

yet uncovered like me

words don’t come easily but discourse is effervescent

sometimes a butterfly turns out to be a Rorschach test

sometimes a butterfly is just that

what do you see when I break free from and build on the past