The Memoir Of Ms. Butterfly

A photograph—a mere flicker,
Yet it carves a shadow in my heart,
Reminding me that healing is no straight path,
But a tapestry of scars and soft reprieves.

In that still frame,
I see a whisper of all I’ve endured,
A question echoing: can a captured glance
Unravel the stitches of my mending soul?

Yet, I resolve—each flash of memory.
It is a call to transform pain into purpose,
To honor the fragments rebuilding me,
And to step beyond cycles into the light of change.

Ms. Butterfly Genesis