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metamorphosis (rewrite)

rewriting a poem again?????? yes guys lol.

some poems i read after months and cry at how lovely my words are and others make me vomit in my mouth and wonder why i ever thought i should be allowed to write. this falls into the latter i’m afraid.

metamorphosis and butterflies and rebirth is everything to me and i did not at all do it justice the first time i wrote this poem. undeniably, i was overwhelmed with the first breath i took outside my cocoon, and i understand exactly the sentiment i tried to communicate. i will try again to materialise my overwhelming emotion and we will see in a few months if i despise it or not.

also for the record, i actually have been writing poems in my dream! full fleshed poems, and i remember them when i wake up. i have no idea what is happening but i am enjoying it. my dream poems are some of my favourites.


i’ve even been writing in my

sleep.

i can see it,

the lines

and the parentheses,

i could almost taste them.


i dream my poems

(write more)


i dream poems

i

never wrote

(write more)


i dream befores

and afters

and i dream everything

i ever wanted to.


oh,

the wonders of ever transforming.


i am born

and i breathe death

in every word.


my gross body

rots,

all of me rots.


i am constantly

leaving Old behind

and finding New,

yet i never change.


i never change;

because i always

Change.


(breathe more)


find breath,

find balance,

find centre in myself.


i can see my breath

in cold

and feel

my balance

in warmth.


i dream what i

write and write what

i dream;

a self fulfilling legacy ,

a self perpetuating cycle

; of freedom.


cocoon is safe

yet it is not me.


i wrap in a cocoon

every night

and my dreams

are plagued with

poetry.


every morning i dare

to break

out and crack open,

tear open at my sternum,

rip out

and bear the sunlight

on my bare

skin.


every moment

i emerge an

inch more,

moonlight coaxing me out

further




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