butterflies in glass prisons
for the world to marvel at the splendor
pierced through fairy wings
magic is only beautiful if you end it
chemicals in my brain are why i feel the way i do
electrical impulses tell me what i experience
i exist only in science
but its ok to romanticize to survive
i am a remnant of stardust
a star which ceased to flame eons ago
so in a way i did too
me and me and you
the universe is in each
flaring and expanding
our galaxies collide with each other
and our stardust is sprinkled on another
we have tiny traces
of everyone we have met in us
from a smile they gave to the pain they made
the circle of life?
unending connection?
or simply wishing on stars?
starshine and all
so magic is stars
and stars are us
and we are magic
and butterflies too
chemicals in the brain
i am not sad
i am in correct working order
i am functioning perfectly
and wings in the dust
shall writhe and sink and shrivel
and magic is gone
but look at the night at the pieces of us in the sky