Apathy

retrodisease

retrodisease

retrodisease
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Today i experianced an elevated level of empathy.
A butterfly, with a broken wing turned to me with eyes of apathy.
Those eyes were not frigid, those eyes were not ominous; in fact those eyes were just eyes, expectant, propitious eyes.
'Dear butterfly, i see we have crossed paths, i will play music for your wings to fade fast'
Climbing onto my hand, manifesting physical deterioration, mozarts finest did not even sway her stagger.
in my hand i held that emancipated spirit, am i not proud to have saved her from the ferbril teeth of a hidden propaganda?
My does my own eyes fill with salted abashment!
Photos of her to chronical my own mishaps, the illusion of the perfect child.
Thus her rest, then my entering to find her torpid.... in my hands.
Her rest again, what will become of our next repartee
'Hai, do you hear the somber tempo trip the ears of the calling ones?'
With that, i embraced her wings, waiting for her next breath.
She died in my hands, her eyes, her eyes, her now frigid eyes.
 
blah blah i am soooo forgetful forgot the photo to go with it hahahaa
 

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:( R.I.P you poor butterfly. There's almost no butterflies in NYC{inside it at least).
 
Wow, that's a beautiful butterfly.
It's so sad that they live for such a short time.
Coincidentally, I'm wearing a butterfly pin, today, too! with red stones...
You should write song lyrics, retrodisease...
 
You have THE poetic way for words,I respect you deeply for that.

Those are memory butterflies to me.

They like to fly around in tha attick at my father's place,my real father.

I rarely go there,and even rares up the attick..but everytime I come there,there's one or two fluttering around,and usually there's a dead one,staring at the windowglass.

Butterflies are magnificent creatures,to felines however..they're intrigiun playthings.

Up to the point of death.
 
i was thinking about war all day and i came home and i found my reason to metaphorically speak out, laying right in the floor.
if i don't have my words i have nothing, because i won't have my mind either. i speak out and uo about everything i can.
i really hope that one day i can find someone to share poetry with, and they with me. someone to notice the begining inspiration for a correspondece through poetry.
 
Well I Guess This What Short Lived, Ah Well Thanks For The Few Replies. I Always Love Hearing People Respond To My Voice, Whatever It May Be, Critique Or Compliment!
 
Gonna be a party pooper here: You know what Hemingway most famously said to Faulkner? 😆
 
ﾃδｲﾃ佚 ﾃ ﾂｿﾃ? ﾃ?静?δｲﾂｽ ﾂｶﾂｸﾃ?ｶ

no what!!😊 oh this won't be insulting will it?
 
Your words give reason to think things over if you're hopelessly romantic or very poetically
ITs nice to see someone speak his feelings this way

Its just as rare as seeing someone sing a random song that he's amking up at the moment out loud.
 
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