Butterfly Wings

Surrender to the glossy eyes of bourbon scented lust.
Unfold yourself, parchment-thin, cracking and splitting
damnation is yours to keep.
Whispered affirmations descend
canicular days jacket intimidation’s face.
Accept rapture, evil’s sinister charade.
Enjoy sips of steamy semen, impatient cum.
Stand there, shrouded in shame having neither
recompense or power to wave away the blurry tears that lay stinging tracks,
deepening into ruts on your face, the face of an angel.
Your eyes faintly illuminate and flick past a memory
nightmarish, with monstrous tragedy, it is lifeless, beaten.
Hope dropped heavy and dead by your side.
They will know and deny to remember the day when romance stole your virtue,
leaving bloodless stinking things with putrid tastes in its place.
Vomited crushed wishes of what once was, what was supposed to be,
broken like butterfly wings.

Photo Credit: Rachel.Adams via Compfight cc

Julie Anderson

Julie Anderson is the Creator and Publisher of Feminine Collective. Julie was inspired to create this safe place for women to share their secrets, desires, triumphs and pain as the antithesis of what mainstream media offers women today. In her column Pursuit of Perfection, she explores the importance of rectifying the balance of inner and outer beauty through essays, poems and articles on self-esteem, shame, family, and self- acceptance.


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