BUTTERFLY TRAP

Butterfly Trap

That’s not a knot in your stomach, it’s a butterfly!

I can’t get up. I just can’t breathe. 

I have to level up. I get to achieve. 

I’m headed out. I have to leave. 

The knot in my stomach feels both annoyingly familiar 

yet stranger each time in a new and interesting way 

that tells me… there is growth here. 

Today I can sit on that knot. 

Or let it sit in me while my stomach acid gnaws on it, or me. 

Or I can face the loss of power with courage, 

speak away the fear that abandonment is near. 

We can create anew the plan 

for acting into a new way of being, 

so today we leave with our future 

now a be! A possibiliTy. B. D. 

Or let go of me 

to really set us free. 

It’s the death of me, 

that’s where I begin to see. 

For breaking through the highest self, 

requires our breakdowns be 

off the back of the deepest shelf, 

for where else can you gain momentum 

than in the swallow dive into the wallow pit?

So, that’s the plan, the agenda woman. 

I thought I’d ‘splain it ‘cos I am a man. 

Nausea my friend. 

I thought you were the owl 

that called my cancer name. 

Then we ate enemy cake 

and hooked up 

and now we’re old soul mates. 

But let’s not forget how we met. 

Or why we keep each other around. 

Butterflies have to feed on something.