* This poem's title might remind you of Smashing Pumpkins song Bullet With Butterfly Wings
The fly at me one by one
Like angels falling from the sun
They bite and sting me, iBurn
I smash them away but they return
Butterfly bullets seep in my skin
Bleed me bloody, suck out my sin
Fangs fixed in my bones within
Laughing for my sins, I atone, #WIN
In a hale of orange, black and red I fell
Drifting between heaven and hell
What is real anymore I can't tell
I don't want to wake up from this spell
But it's already morning and I wasn't asleep
This dream of Butterfly Bullets ain't mine to keep
I've turned into an insomniac creep
Who pretends to listen to alarm clock's beep
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Never really rhymed so much. I'm awake at 5.30 AM. Couldn't sleep all night. Don't expect genius from me now. Take what is given.
Love the way you write... Brilliant in creating perfect imagery. I could hear the flutter of wings and feel the breeze they created as I read; painful, powerful, beautiful.
ReplyDeletethis is actually very nice. i like the abstractness of this one i once wrote a poem on insomnia ..
ReplyDeletewud love to hear from you at my blog.
I go dancing at your rhythm
ReplyDeleteEyes read your poem and I hum
The flies are weak, they're infirm
Pardon this piece I call schcum.
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ReplyDeleteNow ..i understand why some poets are entitled to call insomnia not an ill-effect for health...they could create perfect words in their insomnia(tic) world.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully composed!
there are few who can write the way you do...
ReplyDeleteand this one as so goood.
keep them rolling...
tc bro