The Art of Saying Goodbye

Her cage was a treasure in her hands,
Nimble, trembling fingers that brushed over magnificent
pillars of rusted bronze - entwining
themselves into individual works of art
that captured and stole those off the butterflies
trapped inside.

For an eternity she kept the cage in her arms,
never glancing over her shoulder
to watch those who painted broken wings on the back of
clothes soaked with colours that were
drained into the butterfly cage -
keeping lips swollen from bites
tilted upwards into a smile
that covered up a canvas littered with scars
more than make-up and paint ever could.

She lived in a world of colour, but remained
a petty echo of morbid greys and forgotten stains.

When she fell, she fell hard
tumbling
down
down
down
off the edge of cliffs and never quite managing
to catch herself before starting the cycle all over again
and the fear that raced the adrenaline through her veins
tied up her wings and drew her back to edge.

When she was caught, she almost didn't believe it
Staring up in a sky bursting with colour
that caressed bruised skin and a broken heart
and after an eternity
and a thousand lifetimes
she decided to set herself free.

Goodbye was an art
fueled with the passion of hate that left
her nails clawing through canvases
and trembling in corners
but as she danced in the wind
and her butterflies drew 'yes'
with newfound colours
she learned the art of flying
and walked away from yesterday
with a 'goodbye' on her lips that tasted sweet
on lips painted red with passion