The Butterfly Blues
in matchless roles.
Sculpted to imperfection,
acquiescent to sublime correction.
Newly acquainted with anesthesia,
Yet praying for amnesia.
No love lost. No love less,
set free from distress.
Did we pass our test?
Did we truly give it our best?
A faint beat still thumps in my chest.
One micro-thought of what was
places me in grave danger of cardiac arrest.
A dim twinkle still remains in my eye,
one cannot kill what was birthed to survive.
But..was it all a lie?
That is neither here nor there
for at least we gave it a try.
Written by Tamica Nicole © 2016