Freddy Ibarra (8-23-96 / Texas)

Such vivid paintings splattered by such broken hands
Paint a positive butterfly around a aroma of leeching plants

The butterfly swarms itself away
Twist & turns out of the moons ray
It just slips from the grasp of its gut churning past
It flies to the sky, breathes every flap as its last

It craves its signature around the trunks of every tree
Leaves its mark upon every pedal for the world to see.

As it reaches the height, where it thinks it cannot fall.
The seemly frail clock, catches the happy butterfly, and takes it all.

Reaps it's body, and dumps it in the ocean
It twist & turns drowning in your sin.
It flows there, breathing in your poison

The butterfly dies, on your lies, lie down in your perfect sky, while the rest weep for a why?