today i exploded
all over my everyone.
i found myself outside trying to collect the bits and pieces of me
that were still clinging
to the corners of my cheeks,
wondering if collecting myself is also a form of hoarding….
through my tears,
i spy the chrysalis.
hanging by a slender thread,
brown, black and grey,
looking like a diseased leaf curled.
Camouflaged like death Herself,
the butterfly awaits
having given up all hope of every being a caterpillar again.