Makeshift Butterfly



I felt those words

But there is yet to ponder

That I thought you already understood

You were just your own canvas

But not others’ brush strokes

You thought you captivate me with your fluidity


That thinks you made it longer there


That makes yourself tweet endlessly

Like a hummingbird losing its patience


Just… You.

I think you haven’t grasp the right words yet

You are still on your youngest

Waiting to be out of your chrysalis

You are just a makeshift butterfly

Making yourself as beautiful;

As colorful;

But you

Yes… You.

You are just a tiny dot 

That you think is a whole paragraph to my whole existence

You… Yes… You.

That won’t appreciate these ponderful lines

That I’m about to create

That you will hate

To your fullest.

You… Yes… You.

That thinks only of formality

The colorful spread of your wings and yet-


As informal as this poem is

You were just like this

An utterly complete piece of-

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