Colorful Butterflies.

I see you're name on the screen.

 the butterflies come to life inside my stomach breaking out of the cocoons and taking flight 

only to hit the walls with no where to go.

I have felt this many times before, but with you it's different.  

They are different butterflies.  

More colorful.  

Filled with energy and full on a life so pure I think my stomach might explode.

It's a good feeling.  

I yearn for them every day.  

I want to get to know them, for them to become familiar to my body.

And that's the thing, I don't think that is possible.

These butterflies can't be tamed.  Aren't meant to, and that's okay.

I like them the way they are.  

I want more.

But I'm scared, 

and they feel it.  

As the days go on my conscious persuades me to believe something that can't be true. 

Something I won't believe. 

It makes sense though.

Because how could you have the same butterflies as me inside your stomach, 

when you just got rid of the remnants of hers?

I'm scared.

So the butterflies disappear one by one.

They disappear 

at the thought of you walking away.

They disappear

 because "you only want me for satisfaction."

They disappear 

when you'd rather be feeling up metal than feeling up me.

They disappear 

like I lose your attention.

They disappear 

so I stopped counting.

So please hun.  hurry before their wings tire out.

The Island

An island.  So small, so beautiful.

Surrounded by thousands of pounds of water she put there herself.

Tropical trees as green as can be with fruit more ripe and sweet than anything you've ever tasted.  

Yet no one has ever been to this island. 

Never took a bite of the fruit.  

They've seen and they've heard, but for some reason she never gets chosen as the vacation spot.

Tourists never wander her trails and climb what would change their world. 

Boats and fisherman pass by with maybe a glance.

Leaving her alone.

16 years they've known and she's been alone, with no one to share her magnificence with. 

16 years without a single chance to let people feel the soft sand brush your feet when you walk at sunset.

16 years her crystal blue water, warm of happiness and filled with the remnants of extra rainbows, is left untouched.

16 years her high mountains, jagged cliffs, and hidden caves, wait for just one foot print to claim them.

She doesn't feel alone.  She doesn't feel abandoned. 

But unappreciated. Looked over.  Pushed away. 

just unused...

An island.  So small, so beautiful.  

Surrounded by thousands of pounds of water she put there herself, because someone told her "it's better this way".

But it is about to change.