What if the butterfly,
wasn’t a butterfly at all?
What if the butterfly was wasp.
A cruel, beautiful wasp.
Who just wanted to be pretty.
Who wanted to fit in a field of butterflies.
What if the wasp only wanted to be seen but not feared.
Whos only wish was to be understood.
But the wasp knows
It knows that it will be better off building walls.
And keeping other out.
That it will be better off building a shield around its heart that will never be broken
And accept the accusations, and the anger, and judgement.
To be what the butterflies expect it to be.
To stay with its emotions in side
And never let them see it cry.