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[malisbutterflies]

— Arthur Miller, The Crucible

[malisbutterflies]

I want someone who understands the innate melancholy that resides in every cell of my body.

[malisbutterflies]

An ailment creeps over my skin, like a mold. A stagnancy sits beneath layers of benevolence and smiles. An urge to give away my body to the dirt, to run in the veins of the chameleon leaves.

[malisbutterflies]

Solitude consumes me. Blurry spots cloud up my vision, and I feel my heart shake in its cage. My frostbitten hands tremble, waiting to be held by steady, warm ones.

[malisbutterflies]

I want to be the railing you grasp onto before you fall, the pills you take in the morning, the breath you gasp for underwater.

[malisbutterflies]

My hand reaches out to you, but it’s smoke in frigid winter air.

[malisbutterflies]

And if I speak, I threaten to slash my chest open, staining it all with the blood pumping through my heart.

A stain that will never resolve.

So I bolt my mouth shut with rusted steel, and let the words dig their claws into my flesh, tightening with each gasp of air, as I become nothing more than a culmination of my urges.

[malisbutterflies]

My eyes threaten to spill the secret tenderness I carry in my gaze.

My words bare my care, leaving me as vulnerable as an open wound.

My lips hold back words, irreversible words, that, if spoken, will lock me in a box for eternity.

[malisbutterflies]

I wonder if you think of me, if I occupy the crevices in your mind. If you ponder who I would be held close.

How do you see me? Do you see me?

Or does the past still bleed into the future?

[malisbutterflies]

I dissolve under your gaze.

I am merely a luminance in your blind spot, a light that casts a glow on everyone, but cannot reach you.

I am an ember that glows fainter with every hidden glance, every touch of the hand, every breath.

[malisbutterflies]

Saccharine with undertones of rotting corpse and mold

I sucked the rot out, and it penetrated my bones

I look and see beauty, look closer and see flesh falling off of bone, skin thin and translucent, blue veins eminent

I kiss your skin and pick the mold up onto my lips, as they wilt and fall off, and my tongue dissolves into corroded remnants

Mold seeps into my blood, settling itself into the walls of my heart, peeling them down, until the blood runs in my body rancid

Pouring out of my eyes and ears, trickling down my cheeks, running slits into my neck like a lancet

Soaking my pristine white dress, coating my skin in viscous carmine

And from a distance, I watch my marrow sublime to smoke, from carbon

And I stand stagnant.

[malisbutterflies]

Acid scalds my chest, iron nails clawing at the inner walls of my heart. The fibers of flesh fall apart and smolder into smoke, as I clench my hands around my throat. Like a singularity, my soul is torn in every direction, dissipating into chlorine fumes, and I fill my lungs with the toxic remnants of my wasted love. My chest heaves with a weighted emptiness, and the uncontrollable gravity within absorbs my being into an infinite nothingness.

[malisbutterflies]

Nothing but a culmination of my urges, nothing but a canvas to paint in blood.

[malisbutterflies]

My mind becomes unbearable at times. My only solace is warm hands, soft smiles, and the earthy scent of coffee.

[malisbutterflies]

Have I become the thorns?

Am I meant to be pried from the earth, cradled in blood-sodden hands?

Am I meant to be loved?