Like a butterfly wandering off it’s track, not remembering where home is, only to be left all alone to die before dusk.

Here I stand, planted on this grass, overlooking the city before me, thinking of those that I so much loved, but have not had the urge to call.

Standing here, with tears caressing my skin, dampening my soul with sadness. I noticed that no one has called me or talked to me in years. I laid in this cacoon of a life for so long, everyone had forgotten me.

The cool breeze of the summer’s air will soon be gone, and all that will be left is the frost of the coming season.

My feet marinating in the soft cool grass, I feel still alone, with my thoughts and my tears around me. This deepening feeling of being lost and alone, has put a toll on my soul.

With no where to go, and no one to speak to, I find myself still planted in this grass, overlooking the city, turning into a butterflies cacoon.

I close my eyes, and dream of a life where I am understood, loved, and cared for. I will leave this cacoon years from now, hoping to find that life.

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