The Black Butterfly

Inspiration from Black Dahlia by Porcupine Tree.
A nightmare just before dawn
There’s no warmth that I can hold
In the winter, time slows down
The second’s hand shivering from the cold.
I can see the dark of the moon
Or is it my reflection, the blinds unfold
Is it morning already, my dear crows
My sun must’ve gone cold.
The water cuts me like the rain
The heart you drew on my hand
Finally washes away after many cold baths
But the blood on my chest is here to stay.
I stand outside your room
Thought we could talk over a cup of coffee
A black butterfly taped to the door
“She’s all grown up” it reminds me.
It’s funny how I still call it the living room
Sings of struggle, the result of a fight
Without make up, your face was blue
Without oxygen, my cigarette won’t light.
A scenery in the calendar I can never visit
I haven’t touched it since that day
Your birthday marker is fading away
But the splashes of blood, here to stay.
Your pending homework and patterned bruises, I couldn’t solve them
No matter how hard I try
You see, mama never went to school
Your father was smarter than I.
Your cryptic poem in my hand
I just couldn’t interpret or decipher
Your father told me, “Stick to shopping lists
I will take care of her.”
After that, my memory is a mess
Your muddy footprints on the floor
I can wash them away
But the two streams of blood, are here to stay
I can’t tell which one is yours.
The men in white, they gave me a new home
Your name was all I uttered, day after day
They let me play the music you liked
They told me your father took you away.
I stand outside your room
Thought we could talk over a cup of tea
A black butterfly fallen on the floor
“Can you pick me up?” it asks me.
—–
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