sean

but I can’t draw very well.

With some creative freedom, I’ve made my own script.

Last night, in my dream, a butterfly was kind enough to float around me. I was very grateful. I lovingly invited it to join me, extending my arm so it could land on my fingers - a peace offering. But the moment it landed and began to move, I was skeeved our by it’s insect legs crawling on my hand, and I violently shook it away. I wanted to love it, but this sensation only left me with fear and disgust. It trusted me in this brief moment and I broke this trust - in a way I broke my own trust too. Butterflies don’t live very long. I didn’t want to only appreciate it from a distance, but I wanted to know it. And I wanted it to know me. And in an instant, I protected myself from what senses perceived as danger. It’s but an insect, a butterfly no less. And now for the remainder of it’s short existence, it’ll wonder ‘what did I do wrong?’