but i’m scared of butterflies

scared of breaking down
to scattered memories of a girl
eating herself alive
until there’s nothing left

scared of wearing self
as a thorax wears wings,
hiding the horror of this body
between gaudy spectacles
of dirted orange or faded pink
beating dead against the wind

scared of mothers crying
behold, the beautiful you!
before whispering of the ugly
caterpillar i once was, gifting
their daughters with knowledge
that they were born whole

scared of flying away
into the bloom’ed maw of forever
and never seeing the darkness
of my cocoon again

my god, i’m scared of flying