The Buttefly Project. Poem by Gianella Tyler

Butterflies, you love to fly along porcelain,
Soar among scars and bruises.
Fly under pony tails,
Fly under bracelets.

You stop and rest
Under my hand.
A yellow and pink crest
To remind me to Stop.

You live here and I cannot rub you away.
The only way for you to die,
Is to make you bleed;
Scarlet red blood.

But i like butterflies.
I want them to live.
I want them to soar over Fear,
And to never go near
A red oozy death.