butterflies in glass prisons

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