My butterfly.
My blade.
My butterfly — I keep you close.
I protect, nourish, and love you.
You shine so bright,
So soft,
So small.
You are enough.
But memories trap me.
I feel the burn
Across my wrist.
I long for the feeling —
For the control.
You’re delicate.
You’re sweet.
You’re the love I never knew I needed.
You’re beautiful,
My butterfly.
I see red flowing.
Tears flood my eyes.
Relief comes.
Then guilt.
So I draw my butterfly.
I trace its wings with care.
I’ll keep you alive.
I’ll stay alive —
So you never have to draw your butterfly.