↳ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.

ix

butterflies with broken wings,
ripped at the edges.
beauty turned to rags.

i part my lips,
ready to tell you everything
but all that comes out
are disintegrated butterflies.

beauty
that feasts on flesh.