Friday, January 22, 2010

Butterflies Gone Wild


Cascading raindrops. Wet soil. Glistening twin towers. Burned Churches. Bastards on bikes. Guilty Muslims. Angry Muslims. Forgiving Muslims. Forgiving People of the Book. Disbelieving Others. Noted down. Herd Mentality. Herding Cows. Wait a minute. One is missing, only head existing. Trampled though.

Allah. Allah. Allah. Take your dirty hands off Her. Can't you see you're ripping her apart? Nate Bewok. Can't you see? You can never claim something that is not yours to begin with. (Shhhh. No worries. You are safe with me now, Allah. Take this blanket. Cuddle up. Play hide and seek. Or do you want to play a game where we can pretend that you are me?)

Closed eyes. Softness. Madness. Heart stolen smiles. Really can't believe they are made from contorting facial muscles. Butterfly kisses. Which side feels better. The receiver or the giver? Never mind. At least they flutter on this weary heart of mine. Please. Keep on fluttering until my goosebumps rebelled with a cause.

Just nowhere else to go back to.
But you.

0 poetic mutterings: