Don't look at me that way
So small
I hear your giant head laugh
And shake at me
As I ½ myself again
Pondering what was NOT
Once there was a man
Who dreamt he was not a butterfly
No, he was just a plain, old fly
Captured
In an up turned bottle
You have torn me in ½ so many times
Too many times
And I keep hoping against reason
I'll be too small to be noticed
But you so easily find my ½'d heart
Picking up with tweezers
Teasing pincers that dissect it yet again
Like you are plucking the wings off a helpless insect
The Unfly
Damned to crawl about, flightless
½ of nothing
Is
Nothing.
http://www.darkpoetry.com/node/work/53953
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