I Box Up All The Butterflies

I find it difficult to

relax in the summertime

with all the flowers in bloom

I creep across the countryside

with my net and my bait

and a pocketful of baler twine

I break the promises I make

as I box up all the butterflies

I ruin everything

as I sit in a field of grass in the spring

listening to the beat of its little heart and to its wings

struggling for air under an upturned glass

and I put pins through its wings

and I bottle it up

I box it up and bury it in my heart

just as I know my friends

I also know my enemies

are the birds and the bees

and my own little insecurities

I creep around in the dark

and I tear up all the dandelions

and I break my own heart

as I box up all the butterflies

tirelessly following

its tiny butterfly tracks across the fields in the spring

with a plastic carrier bag full of fish hooks and string

I lay a little matchbox trap and

I put pins through its wings and I bottle it up

I box it up and bury it in my heart

I folded up its furry wings and opened up its little heart

it might sound stupid but something about it made me want to pull it apart

I ruin everything

as I sit in a field of grass in the spring

listening to the beat of its little heart and to its wings

struggling for air under an upturned glass

and I put pins through its wings

and I bottle it up

I box it up and bury it in my heart