Killing Butterflies

How many butterflies can my stomach contain?
How many of them are alive, still fluctuating with passion and energy
and how many are instead already dead or almost dead?

And if there is someone that in leaving wishes to take away some of my butterflies,
should I allow him?
Or should I just keep my butterflies hidden, without giving them a chance to fly in my stomach?

Or maybe, I should just kill them,
cause they have no right to exist.

Also the butterflies in here have to respect the rules of behaviour,
their flying too high, their speaking too loud,
inappropriate for this world I live in,
inappropriate and alien as I am,
they are my butterflies after all.

And my need to accept that there is no point in waiting make them suffer.
No point in trying and understanding,
no point in cutting and pasting butterflies' wings on someone's heart
in the pathetic attempt to make them count.
They don't count.
They have stopped counting as soon as he took some away with him,
and they count even less now that you have left for that island you dreamed.

Now that she has told to the world how she is in mourning because you left,
now that she shows the love you two have with such a style,
now that she told to the world, like a strong Penelope, that she'll wait for you to be back,
and now that my poor butterflies are suffering an excruciating pain,
envying her because she has you to wait for.

In this weird world to which I belong less and less,
also my butterflies are second rate.
And yet, to me they are the only thing that count.

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