thebutterflypoetess

[thebutterflypoetess]

I sink in my despair. It's not the same anymore. I'm sick in my bones. I'm never calm. And I can't live without my sickness.

My heart is trampled. My mind is sinking in dark, as it holds on to my sickness. My hands, my skin - they're covered in sadness, one that is stuck, one that couldn't be washed out. My thoughts are viruses - "I can't live alone! I can't handle the loneliness...". Memories flash behind my eyes and winter is coming. I am not living.

All my life I run, I abandon everything. I push everyone away so that they can't break me more - but in the end I have only punished myself. I am left alone. I want, yet I can't accept kindness. The virus is in my veins.

Every kindness has had become deathly. The tears still run down my cheeks. Whispers echo in my bleeding ears. I can't heal. Fear is ending me. The water is perfect for me. I don't deserve warmth.

If someone wraps their arms around me, I'll fall apart...

[thebutterflypoetess]

The sudden urge to get my nails done like that

(IK IT LOOKS BAD, BUT I CANT DRAW {The hand is downloaded from Pinterest})

[thebutterflypoetess]

Thanks for tagging me @ceciliajay 🫶

1. Sheriarty (they're a huge hyperfixation of mine, lol)

2. Phone specs

3. Mitski songs

4. My OCs

5. Rhaenyra Targaryen and her sweet boys ☹️

Tagging: @itsjustpolyester312 @imaricyeah12 @lead-to-code

I saw this meme going around on twitter and I think it'll be perfect for this account.

List 5 topics you can talk on for an hour without preparing any material.

[thebutterflypoetess]

My last fics are flopping so badly 😔

[thebutterflypoetess]

Another Sheriarty edit (made last night).

Song: "No one noticed" by The Marias

[thebutterflypoetess]

A Sheriarty edit I made a couple of months ago!

Song: "He's my man" by Luvcat (live version)

[thebutterflypoetess]

Awww, thank you so much, your support means everything to me 🫶🫶🫶🫶

New fic!

[thebutterflypoetess]

New fic!

[thebutterflypoetess]

When it starts raining, will you still be covered in my blood?

[thebutterflypoetess]

My hands are rough.

Dry and flushed.

Often bleeding.

Cold and broken.

If you take them for a second,

you would feel the hidden rage in them.

You'd be pushed away.

You shouldn't love them.

Rugged and ugly -

The cold had disfigured them,

the illnesses had hurt them.

They do not want you.

No matter what they do,

they'd never be good enough.

There's always something wrong with them

and no one stays.

My palms are soft.

Gentle and pale.

Always healthy.

Warm and soft.

If you touch them for a second,

you would feel the unhidden warmth in them.

You'd be welcomed.

You would love them.

Soft and beautiful -

Spring beautified them,

meds healed them.

They seek you out.

No matter what they do,

they'd always be gentle.

They'll never be bad.

But still no one stays…

People have met my hands more

than my palms.

Often they have been the reason why my hands are rough.

And the hands hurt so bad…

[thebutterflypoetess]

Roses in the mountains

It’s over before I knew it.

I tried grasping it to not escape -

yet it disappeared between my fingers.

My small joy in the cold.

I felt it, a thing more powerful than I thought. 

I need it - this feeling of walking through different streets,

of being caressed by unknown wind,

of enjoying the beauty of the world I’ve never seen.

I was finally happy!

I was smiling and in awe,

I was capturing what I love so dearly,

yet it had to end.

I was weightless under the last sun rays,

my body wasn’t crying,

I was flying above flowers,

my soul wasn’t pleading for mercy.

A thing so small is all I need,

but it seems as if I have not earned it.

Why is it so hard to earn freedom?

I was let out and then thrown in the cell again.

Oh, the roses I saw -

they reminded me of my being.

Falling apart slowly,

once pure and lovely.

I was no one back there!

Just a silly girl with a camera,

not the nerd freak who doesn’t fit in. 

I was no one and I was happy!

Oh, let me mourn the endless mountains,

covered by Autumn trees. 

Let me mourn what I want,

what I spend my whole life seeking!

I will await the date to touch the roses again.

Their thorns might make me bleed,

but I’ve already bleed enough

not to feel the pain as much.

I will await the pink sunset in the mountains.

The cold might make me sick,

but I’ve already been sick for years,

my cell is full of viruses.

[thebutterflypoetess]

Dream

Have you ever dreamed of escaping?

Of chasing the future that you desire?

Have you ever lived like you wanted?

Like finally reaching your home?

She cries herself to sleep most nights,

thinking of her pain and broken heart.

Memories of her past self haunt her,

the promises she gave are still not a reality. 

She is sick and exhausted,

surviving has been too hard lately,

she is given only suffering in return for her dreams,

she cannot catch a break, her legs are broken.

Her world is ugly, filled with monsters,

insults echo in her bleeding ears,

curled into a ball, she’s dying,

having never tasted an accomplished dream.

Craving to experience the beauty of the outside world,

she faces her demons and her biggest fears.

They grab her by the throat and choke her,

then kick her and leave her to disappear.

They are cruel, she’s a child,

one that always wanted life, but got to exist,

yet her heart is tough and even if broken,

it keeps desiring to feel joy.

She dreams and dreams of smiling and laughing,

of being herself where no one knows of her name,

of running and breathing fresh air,

of stepping on new grounds and never turning back.

She cannot give up on herself,

on all that makes her a being -

her long coats and camera in hand,

her notebooks and ink jams. 

She wants to drink warm chocolate from a cozy coffee shop,

she wants to walk through the park in an October afternoon,

she desires to go sightseeing in another country,

she needs to delete her past and be a new person.

Picturing herself as a free spirit,

this is the only thing keeping her going.

One day she will leave and never return

to her cage and her void.

[thebutterflypoetess]

and they were both bottoms

[thebutterflypoetess]

Survive

I am not a monster.

I don’t think I’ve ever been. 

There are just broken pieces in me. 

Some screams I’ve never had the chance to let out.

Sitting in a room, filled with tension,

I can hear accusations towards myself. 

Standing out, being too much, hated.

A mess that does not deserve decency.

The past haunts me, my mistakes devour me. 

I think I’m not strong enough to handle it all.

I am a human being as well, I have emotions!

There is nothing wrong with how I am.

But I yearn for girls with long curls and warm eyes,

I desire an escape and a different life,

I’ve no bone that wants to settle down in this town,

I describe a different type of love, one that sticks out, in lines. 

I am not made to live here, I am seen as a sinner.

A disgusting being with a sick mind, deserving to rot in hell.

Having a soul that is too sensitive,

a heart that seeks more than it could receive. 

And my voice is quiet, muffled by other people.

Alone, not being understood or wanted.

So please, let me lay down so I could go.

The monster they think I am shall be gone. 

Full of fears and tears,

let me run until I can’t breathe anymore.

Allow me, mother, to never return.

I’m too tired of trying to survive. 

[thebutterflypoetess]

I'm so endlesly tired, not even poetry could help me describe the void inside of me...

[thebutterflypoetess]

Pushed

Everything in me wants, craves, desires more.

And for it I go mad. 

Mad and falling like a devil.

 When I open my eyes, 

 the weight of my memories and my regret fall on my heart. 

 I try (I’m trying, I swear!) to stop living in the past and in the pain,

 but (forgive me, I’m trying!) I get pushed down in the dark and get consumed. 

 My body is exhausted. 

 My mind is exhausted. 

 I get destroyed by the repetitive falling in the void.

 Please, help me escape!

 I was angry, now ashamed,

 the world broke my inner child,

 I feel too much and fear a lot,

 the cold wind can’t stop the fire in me. 

 Everything is wrong and I’ve got nowhere to go. 

 Each day is sadness and grief,

 and I dream of rising Sun and warm breeze,

 yet it is not my time to live.

 And I despise the way the world is.

 I don’t want that world to be where I exist!

 It kills my heart, my mind, my soul,

 and it leaves me cracked and broken.

 I can’t close my eyes in peace,

 laugh tracks echo in my ears,

 and I see, and I hate,

 what happened and what I did.

 She’s a sinner, she’s innocent,

 she is ruined and she’s gone,

 she had no chance of surviving,

 she had to disappear, yet I miss her. 

 Her picture frame is broken and falling off the wall,

 her voice is a whisper in the loud hall, 

 she cannot cry, nor smile, 

 and I bear the consequences of her existence. 

 I’m so sick of this!

I’d rather choke on my blood,

 then to keep being in this cell,

 forced to feel nothing anymore.

 I’m tired of fighting,

 I need to lay down and sleep,

 but I don’t deserve to rest.

 I deserve to die in the dark.

Nothing in me shall get what it desires, right?

For I am emotional and sensitive,

my fate, my damned destiny, is to rot!

Not to be caught, but to be pushed,

not to fly, but to fall,

not to swim, but to drown.

[thebutterflypoetess]

Verdict

The town is being too small for my soul.

When a person starts living in these lands,

he has to make peace with their grayness, 

to tolerate the emptiness and to get used to the cold. 

However, my heart desires otherwise. 

These lifeless streets I’ve been wandering all my existence

are not enough for me to dip in life,

and when I try to raise my head,

for bravery to fill my red blood, courage to run in my thoughts,

I think that fate sees and writes what shall happen to me

in this life that I shall have. 

And my wishes are words on paper

and fate doesn’t give them

to the kid of the sea and the poet.

I think that the door of the new beginning,

where my heart wants to head to, is being made;

that the fear of the past is pushing me to escape;

that in the different world the colors are full of life;

that the unheard sobs, that the quiet screams,

that the tribulations hard and faces cruel,

that the heartless woman, personifying the devil,

that the dead Sun and sleeping trees,

that the bloody whisper, echoing in the anxiety,

that the hand with the knife, merciless, forgiveless,

stuck in the fragile heart of some child,

are far more evil than the outside world I dream of,

than all the skies and dead dreams. 

I think that the kid, here in this world,

has one dream, one desire,

on which she’ll never give up;

that for a goal bigger than her herself

is her fight with teeth and nails;

that she cannot hold on for long

with these acquaintances and these torments,

‘cause she is suffering and always falling.

I think the unsaid norms

will painfully blow out her flame;

that she has no need for promises, thrown like a fake key to her cell,

but for a new air when she leaves her father’s home;

I also think it’s a punishment from fate

that she lives in a cage ever since she exists,

with no wings, with no sea, with no blood ink;

that she does not have to beg for forgiveness;

that she would have to jump over 

this hedge, a fence, separating her from the world,

and that she shall run until there’s no air in her lungs,

just so she shall feel what freedom is.

 And we will await the verdict of fate.