Parchment untouched,
unmarked by indigo,
two tear dropp stains.
There are no words
to describe
the way I feel today.
Voiceless,
helpless to change
your mind.
There’s no Salvation
in loving me.
Wildly flailing
through life myself.
Can’t save you,
my love
won’t keep you alive.
I’m tired of it all today,
Christians
and their judgements,
Buddhists
and their denial.
I’m nobody’s Savior.
Just a little butterfly
with shredded wings,
curled,
tired of being strong.
Joyce Chelmo
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wounded-butterfly/
