â ď¸ TW: suicide â ď¸
Do you remember the first time we saw the butterfly? Fluttering past the hospital window, with you on my chest for the first timeâŚ
It was blue like the sky, like the ocean, like your eyes
You might not have remembered then, but I know you remember now.
We saw it for a second time, at the little park just down the street
A few years later, you were swinging high, pumping your little feet
It flew right past you in a cerulean blur, leaving you behind it
Blonde hair falling in your face, you swore someday youâd find it.
Ten years past, dropping you off at your first day of high school, good olâ freshman year
Mascara, lip gloss, blush and linerâyouâre an entirely new person, I fear
I watch you climb out of the car and you spot the butterfly of deepest blue
But your friends wave you over, all of them makeuped too
You run over to them, squealing and excited, the butterfly and I forgotten.
Sometimes the butterfly comes to visit me, since I never see you anymore
I feel as if itâs encapsulated your spirit somehow from years of being outside closed doors
I smile sadly, fondly, wistfully as I look back on the time we hadâall those years
Even then, I canât find a way to stop the tears.
Your freshman year is as good as gone in the blink of an eye
Youâre off to summer camp with those friends of yours, leaving me with the butterfly
I find solace in its company even though it feels as if youâve left me for good this time
You never call, your dad doesnât either, and Iâm left alone, left behind.
I close my eyes, lost in thought, the years of you becoming a haze
When I get a call from your camp, words of sorrow, eyes washed with glaze
âThere was an accident,â they said, âIâm sorry,â they said
My little baby girl was dead.
Time is lost to me, so is hope; Iâm running out of ways to cope
Every minute equivalent to an hour; grief is bitter, grief is sour
I donât know what to do with myself except to go and get you flowers.
I set the bundle on the stone, withering and cold
Itâs already been a few years, Iâve grown gray and old
They said âtime is of the essence,â but to me they lied
No one couldâve saved you even if they wouldâve tried
When I lost you, I lost myself to a hole way deep inside
I sold them to the devil, every shriveled tear I cried
There is nothing left for me here, save the butterfly
But even then, sheâs broken, worn down by cruel time
I lay her on your grave, a final resting place
With you she died and now I know that you will both be safe
So I can leave, I can be free after being trapped for so long
As a final word, I stand up, humming the melody of our favorite song
Knowing that if you were here youâd be singing along
I clutch my coat tight as I can, still murmuring the verse
Pull the gun out of my pocket, eager to break my curse
With steady hands I bring it to the side of my head
Filled with peaceâno remorse or a single ounce of dread
With you in mind and the gun shining under light of the moon
I smile sadly and whisper, âIâm coming baby. Iâll see you soon.â
ââââââ
A/N: First off, if you made it this far thank you so much for reading the whole thing! It took me two hours to write and perfect this piece for you guys. I would love feedback if you have any, Iâm here to improve my writing! Thank yall so much đ
