Longing

What can I tell you, about the house of my

Heart,

A place were a million butterflies flutter their wings

Tearing their way through the air?

 

I can see you don’t believe me.

 

Can you not see, not hear?

At the center of my soul I keep a hole.

Next time, I always thought,

Next time – I shall fill it up. With love

Or perhaps words. No?

Then there’s at least pride.

 

Lo and behold, I have a life to fill.

In the depths of my heart where a million butterflies so

Very desperately                  Live and

End their lives.

 

Well, what can I tell you?

In the end I still have a hole to fill. Can't you tell?

The butterflies that live there beat their wings on the premise of a promise.

How can I describe to you that promise?

Oh! But not even I can understand with what

Urgency my butterflies fly! Time may pass, but forever there I shall hear

The sound of a million heartbeats.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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