i was born a butterfly,
with gorgeous grey eyes and multicolored wings;
red, orange and yellow for the sunrise
and green for the afternoon,
blue and
purple
for midnight
x. and I forgot indigo,
like everyone else x.
and they held me in the light
and whispered fiercely, 'her wings, her wings!'
for they noticed them sparkling in the sunlight,
and my mother cried and my father fell back in his chair
and covered his eyes with his hands;
x. why our daughter?
he whispered
why my baby?
my mother sobbed .x
i was born a butterfly
and by morning they had clipped my wings,
and gorgeous grey eyes were stained in several colors;
red, orange, and gold for passion
and purple for the pain,
black and
white
for brilliance lost
x. and I never flew
again .x
Report a Policy Violation
the news article as well as check out the individual pieces. We understand that each day you may not be able to check out each and every one of the pieces, everyone has their own things going on. We just ask that you make an attempt to help support the growing Literature community.
Follow us on Twitter
Become a fan on Facebook
Comments
--
It's odd to look back on time and see how much you change but it's stranger when you look out towards the future and know you'll continue to change..but into what?
--
"As you wish."
--
||+i want to be the one to walk in the sun+||
--
"This is how the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper."
"I thought it would be nice to lie down and close my eyes. It never occurred to me that I am already asleep."
--
"This is how the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper."
"I thought it would be nice to lie down and close my eyes. It never occurred to me that I am already asleep."
--
"This is how the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper."
"I thought it would be nice to lie down and close my eyes. It never occurred to me that I am already asleep."
--
||+i want to be the one to walk in the sun+||
--
It's sad when people you know become people you knew, when they can change right before your very eyes and no matter how much you wish they could come back, they never do.
--
The fact that you have not read enough to find a better fictional man than a sparkly fake vampire saddens me.
Maddness is an escape...and madness is a metaphor for the paper beneath my pen and the words that spread from my fingers.
Poor, indigo. D: They kicked her out of the rainbow.
--
"This is how the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper."
"I thought it would be nice to lie down and close my eyes. It never occurred to me that I am already asleep."
Previous Page12345...Next Page