Wednesday, April 7, 2010

The Death Of A Butterfly




Have you ever noticed how when you get older everything turns to stone.
Vivid colour fades to greys.
Pure sunshine is blocked by smog.
Darkness consumes all.

Through childish eyes I saw a world filled with magic and fairy tales.
Good always conquered evil.
Trust was a real and tangible force.  
The air was thick with faith and the sky with rainbows.
And love, love triumphed over all things.
As a child my parents showed me this world full of promise and enchantment.
They taught me love and to believe in things that seemed unbelievable.
To dream relentlessly.
To live vicariously.
I was promised a future filled with magic.
I lived in that world.
It was beauty personified.
It was perfection beyond belief.
I was Alice and I lived in wonderland.
Till I woke up.

And only now looking back do I realize how surreally amazing that world was,
at the time it was simply my world.
It was all there was.
The utopia of all worlds within worlds within worlds.
That was the world I grew up in.

But now as an adult I see the world through different eyes.
I feel like every one of my dreams have been stolen from me.
Each one taken from right before my eyes.
I don't like what I see,
it terrifies me.
Slowly one by one, my beliefs have been savagely destroyed by the reality of the world I live in.
Everything I believed in,
everything I was taught was a lie.
I don't understand nor do I want to know this world.
I want to hide away.
To run and never look back.
To forget everything that I now know, every image that taunts me.
To fall back down my rabbit hole and never to return.
I long to be a child again.
I have never felt this alone.
Before now I had never felt my soul shattering before.
But now I listen to it every day.
The painful sound of my deepest flesh been torn.
I wait for it.
Some say I am jaded.
But I believe I have just woken up.

I have lived such a winsome life so far.
I was shown love, happiness and laughter.
And I was taught and cherished.
I have had a happy life.
I have lived moments of pure gold.
But this was in the world of a child.
Another time and place.
Another me.

Now I am jaded.

See I believed in love.
A long, long time ago.
A love found in fairy tales.
A love that could not be stopped by any evil force.
A love that never dies.
A love that makes your heart beat faster.
It awakens butterflies you never knew were there.
I believed.
But that was the old world.
This is reality.
This is the real world.
A love like that does not exist.
Or it does but it is not strong enough to survive in this world.
Love is not always enough no matter how strong you believe it is.
Even a love that has lived through years of battle,
tears and laughter and still stands tall,
a love made for fairy tales,
A love made for the words forever and endless...even that love may not be enough.
Reality can destroy and does destroy everything, even that love.
Distance.
Differences.
Death of dreams.
Death.
What about happiness?
It is just just an illusion.
We hold so tight onto that old world,
a world that doesn't exist.
We fool ourselves to make getting up each morning easier.
This feeling of bliss, of hopeless love is just to get us through the darkest corners of the world.
It is not real.
All your happiness is a lie.
My happiness is a lie.
I have put on this mask, plastered with a smile and everything is fine.
It is a lie, but no one minds.
The world goes on,
it keeps circling,
spiraling out of control.
Everyday we live a lie in a world that is a lie.
Lies within lies.
Upon lies, Upon lies.
We hold onto the them,
Keeping them close.
Keeping us warm.
Everyday a butterfly dies.
Every day we become less than we were as children.
Everyday we we loose a little more of the magic.
And slowly all around us everything turns to stone. 

G ©

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