Butterfly

Falling in love is a hideous process.

Like every disease, it starts with belief

That you’re invincible

You recklessly run through the echo of his laugh

You immerse yourself in the smell of his neck

On that motorbike

With his hand on your lap

And the Northern Star guiding your ride

And before you take a breath and see

That kiss under the tree

Infects your system with the virus of Him

Like a bug nesting in your brain

He gets to dictate your every thought

He loves me, he loves me not

Now everything—his voice, his grin, that spot on the beach

Becomes a brick of his temple in your womb

Black butterfly of doom is the symbol of new cult

Black butterfly of doom slays its own cocoon

Cuts your stomach in two

When you’re waiting for the beeping sound of salvation

So here it came! He wrote you today

And you want to smear your eyes

Like butter over each word

Suck every letter to its naked bone

Eat them in a sandwich with roasted heart and sliced hope

Breathe them in, get high on him, get stuffed with him

Get sick, so sick, SO SICK OF HIM!

Falling in love is an exercise for your will.

Don’t think of him. DON’T think of him!

It’s a test of faith. What do you prefer?

Connection to his whim or connection to yourself?

Oh, if I were you, I would meditate

I would take that pain and mix it in an elixir

With a gecko tail and two shells

I would drink it by the full moon

In the name of Isis

In the name of myself

For my own strength

I would sit with my head in the rain and pray

God, please save my brain, don’t let me go insane

God, erase his name from the pages of my fate

I chose myself. I want ONLY myself!

So what do you say?

Falling in love is a tough lesson to take.

A lesson of letting go

Of yourself.

POEM FEATURED IN THE NOVEL HAPPY EVER(YWHERE) AFTER.