The Memoir Of Ms. Butterfly

My mind, like a compass,
has charted the map of survival—
a terrain of letting go,
where love is lighter than loss,
And freedom is worth the unraveling.

But my heart…
She lingers in shadowed corners,
clutching echoes,
swaying to rhythms that no longer serve me
But still sounds like home.

I plead with her:
“Catch up.
Step in time with what I now know.”
Yet she folds into silence,
eyes wide with fear
That healing might erase the memory of feeling.

I am two voices,
written on the same page
In a different ink.
One says release,
The other whispers, remember.

And I don’t know
If this ache is resistance
or reverence.
But I do know—
Even confusion can be a kind of clarity,
If I dare to write it down
And let it speak.

By: Ms. Butterfly Genesis