My Butterfly

I have a kind of butterfly in my stomach that nobody knows.
All we know is it's black, and it's deadly, and it continues to grow.
It's eating me up, leaving worries to keep.
Hope was dessert and it seems we've lucked out, there is no more.
Nothing to spare but scraps of raw emotion.
Depression, Anger, Sorrow.
The sky glows with the bright lights, the nervousness feels like a knife.
Blood isn't but a trophy, Gore is nothing but reward.
Don't bother searching me.
My, it's clear I'm empty..
The poisons have eaten my heart hollow to a point I won't return.
Kill the lights, make them believe, let them be decieved.
Darkness seeps into the brightest corner of my mind, oh how I thought they'd never find me hiding here.
You fluttered through my heart, but we know in the end you just tore me apart.
You've made my soul a stitched-up cripple, not to be revealed.
Broken things aren't meant to heal, only to have the faults hidden away.
Slow burning sensations curse what's left of me, they fill my soul with mind-numbing thoughts who try to coax, but I will never give up.

Not to my butterfly.