Butterflies

 

We are crippled butterflies,

stiff wings folded over crooked

bodies. The wind swells in laughter.

In the sun we crisp like dried flowers

or autumn leaves.

 

The two of us, we never

stood a chance.

 

Le Jardin du Reuilly

 

I don’t want someone to sit

and watch with dead eyes,

calling me

beautiful

or

special

like it means something new.

 

I fancied myself as a flower once,

stalk bent in half

dropping petals of pink.

 

Today, walking

through the wet sand and garden grass,

smelling of the salt

on the summer breeze

I see myself instead as a tree

weathered by storms, branches outstretched

and mottled bark missing

in layers.

 

Trees have withstood time, rain,

and the brutality

of humans.

So shall I.

 

 

Jessica Lynn is a 23-year-old poet hailing from Randolph, NJ.  Although she currently work as a waitress, she hopes to one day find a career in the literary field.  Her poetry has previously been published in Pif Magazine, the Two Cities Review Featured Works blog, and Wilderness House Literary Review.  She spends her spare time writing poetry and drinking wine, and there is nothing wrong with that. To further connect with Jessica, please find her at http://www.twitter.com/JessTheWriter33