Lacey Harms, Writing, Senior, San Antonio, TX


one day when i was sixteen,
a time of living in the cul-de-sac
a time of catty girls and sloppy kisses
butterfly was weak—
she was disoriented from flight
trampled by a beautifully wicked human
her antennae trembling


you snatched her up with your calloused hands—
the hands you use to push me away when i cry
and you firmly gripped her wings
strikingly fragile from misuse in your merciless
fingertips. standing outside on the chalked sidewalk
i squinted my eyes, watched in disbelief
and butterfly crumpled toward the ground


i want you to remember
when you shattered the frail butterfly
that i had within me
i want you to know
that i cannot let go