It’s autumn and I notice butterflies. You were right, thunder will echo twice and the sun will dawn earlier now. The memories of us keep me warm inside, they help me. But you know, he who sows the wind shall reap the whirlwind, and just like that I fall asleep.

In my dreams, that’s where I watch the warmth of my hands glow in the darkness, in my dreams, that is where I did not have to die. Sometimes I sit in bed and hug myself, chin on my knees, head slightly tilted, hands on the fabric of my skin. In these moments, the hum of my brain fades into a faint hush and the world only rotates for me. If you could only see the world through my eyes, and give peace a chance.

My room is too small for my tender vision, yet too big to keep me warm alone.

Somehow the darkness swallows all the blue around the edges of my fingers and leaves me drained of nothingness. Oh, I would be an idiot to try to fight the fate of my flowers. I mean, I wake up, I eat, I am honest, what else can I do? I notice butterflies. I could take pictures of them for you, but I could also just close my eyes and keep them forever sketched in the darkness behind my eyelids.

Between me and everyone else, there is not all that much space. Actually, I am pretty close to other people, metaphorically, of course, as between me and others there is a wall of decaying mitochondria and a failing immune system.

A lot of times, I play around with these funny magnets I bought. Magnetism is so mesmerizing. Like, I truly wonder, where is all that force coming from? It’s so invisible yet so alive, just like my body.

Society also rejects me. What am I doing wrong? Why do they stare at me?

Make me invisible, make me fade away, society hates me and my broken body.

In a museum, chewing on grass and spitting on everyone giving me the looks.

Turn back time and spit again, pathetic. There is society and then there is us.

They simply don’t care.

All of this is highly hypothetical, as all I do is hug myself in bed and imagine butterflies.