PAIN. ‘Moths’ poem and picture. Anonymous.


At first I thought they were butterflies
And welcomed them,
And revelled in the sensation
they gave me; fluttery anticipation.

But after a while I realised they were eating holes in my heart,
because they weren’t really butterflies, but something quite apart.

And then they multiplied
into an unwanted,
tangled array.

Now they won’t go away.


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