T H E B U G D R E A M

deeplying falling kissing wishing
hoping loving hugging believing
how a butterfly was a bug
inside a bag of tender skin

like me

lasting, blasting, feeling, crying
destroying, allowing oneself

to die____like you like me

We are all inside a room called life
dying climbing tearing the walls
wishing we could escape

no such thing

Our creatures say there’s more outside
but no one has seen the after-life

so like a bug inside a bag of tender skin
we dream we can become the butterfly
we love:

to fly away.

:: 03.18.2022 ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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