• The butterflies danced inside, gnawing on the organs as if they were leaves
    The wings, tickling and brushing, eventually brought on nausea-like feelings
    The muscle known as the heart began to work much too hard and at crazy speeds
    Blood races toward the surface of the skin, changing it from ivory to rose
    Lips became sewn with invisible threads, locking away the out-pour of sounds formed into meanings
    Functioning became difficult as the brain turned to mush
    And if moving came natural, it had never felt so alien as it did then
    Had I really been conscious was a mystery then and still is now
    Eventually the butterflies slowed, the heart beat normal, the skin became ivory, the mind worked, and the lips no longer sewn
    After everything though, time slipped through the fingers like sand and ended in a dull “goodbye” that was forced through the once sewn lips

    © Lacey Branch