Butterfly Guts

Those manufactured butterflies
You put in my stomach
Aren’t special
If you place
Fluttering cocoons
Everywhere you go

Like a child on Christmas
Your eyes are wide with
The next shiny package
Before you have unwrapped
The gift you already have
Naked in your hands

I’m a single woman
In a world that wants to eat me
A black widow
That learned to take
The first bite

I am the one you want to lie to
The one you want to leave
The hell I’ve been through
Warmed me and now
I search for flames of relief

When my residual heat
Becomes just a repeat
And my blaze
Begins to freeze
You’ll know this spider
Digested the butterflies
In her guts of fire

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