The Butterfly

(Imported from Facebook. Written on September 19, 2012)

The glare of the sun hurt her eyes. But no matter, the pain was welcome. She lifted her face towards the big ball of fire, and fought with the white hot pain of the scorching heat.

A second, a minute, an hour, a day, a week, a month, a year. She finally stopped and bowed her head down. She was blind, she could feel. She was enveloped with white starkness. Blindly, slowly, she lowered herself to the ground. Felt the moistened grass under her palms.

She sighed. A whispering of the lips that drifted to the wind, even far beyond what her mind could conjure. Wallowing in the blankess of her sight, she allowed herself to finally, finally shut off from the world and listen to her mind.

She wondered what it was like to be more - more of the green meadows she was forever lying on. More of the faces that swarm before her day by day. More of the voices that drone on and on, never seeming to change, voicing ideas that never seem to be more than what they were before.

She lusted for everything beyond her grasp. She lusted for everything her fingertips couldn't touch. Wouldn't it be a joy? Wouldn't it be like quenching a thirst? It is after all a hunger that all food can not satisfy. She tried to satisfy it, didn't she? But to no avail.

The lust was a quick pull on her belly, a slow liquid warmth spreading through her, within her. It was almost sexual- almost, but not quite. The urge was more. No. It's not an urge. A yearning, perhaps? Yes, a yearning. A yearning so intense it gradually brings on physical pain. A pain she accepts, welcomes, and even crave.

She wanted a globe, not a map. An ocean, not a sea. A library, not a book. Oh how she wanted everything of everything. A smile flitted on her lips. She could almost taste the wonder on her tongue. Such a sweet sweet taste. More than the nectar a butterfly sips on her beloved flowers.

Yes, a butterfly. Maybe she could be a butterfly. Fly with the wind a caress on her face. Flitter everywhere, everywhere. Over the mountains, around the forest, under the rippling waters of the ocean-- but could she, if she was a butterfly? No matter, no matter. This is her mind. She could do anything inside her mind.

A second sigh escaped from her lips. But those are all that can escape, these sighs of her. And with this thought lurking in her mind, the smile was replaced with wistfulness.

She opened her eyes. She was blind no more. She tilted, then moved her head from left to right, taking in a panoramic view of her world. Her world, she must remember. How stupid it was to forget.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she stood and made way for home.

"I want adventure in the great wide somewhere

I want it more then life can tell

And for once it might be grand to have someone understand

I want so much more than they've got planned."

-Belle's Reprise