If I were a butterfly, I’d thank you Lord for giving me wings
But I’m not a butterfly. I stayed in that musty cocoon for months and months. You should’ve seen my walls- all decorated with tally marks- as I counted down the days left for me to blossom into a beautiful butterfly.
I remember that day so well- the day you betrayed me. I was sitting in that cocoon, my hands weary from all the writing, my body weak and lifeless from all those months without sufficient food, my head heavy and dizzy as I tried to figure out if I had one or eleven days left to go. All of a sudden, the walls began to quake and constrict around me. I was so terrified, I thought that I was going to die.
Then came the rupture. The roof of what I had called home for months burst open and heaven seemed to pour in, I thought you had sent your most trustworthy angels to come for me and for a brief moment, I felt relief. Little did I know that this was just part of your malicious plan to trick me into being a part of your crazy experiments.
I closed my eyes- partly because the light from above was painfully bright and partly because I thought that when an angel is met by the gaze of the heathen eye, it flutters away in fear. So I sat there like a damn fool, eyes closed, arms wide open waiting for your angels to pick me up and bring me to you.
I stayed in that position for quite a while. It was only until my arms started shaking in pain that I decided to open an eye and peek just a bit. Maybe I had misunderstood the legend and it was the angels who were blind. Maybe I needed to guide them towards me. But when I opened my eyes, there were no angels. Only that bright light that now highlighted the debris of my cocoon-home littered all around me. But that wasn’t even the worst part, I took a look at my arms- sorry I meant wings- old habits die hard you know. I wasn’t a butterfly, I was a fucking moth!
Seven months, I waited. Everyday I would convince myself that it was all worth it because I would come out a beautiful butterfly and everyone around me would want to be like me. Little boys and girls would see me and point and say- “Mama, Papa, when I grow up, I want to be just like her!” The whole family would then stare at me in awe as I floated around and went about my business. But alas, here I am, a dusty old moth. Now when those same children see me, they will scream and run to their parents wailing “Mama, Papa, come see this terrible thing!” And the whole family would subsequently gawk at me with clear expressions of disgust before one of them tries to swat at me with an old newspaper. Now you might think I was a fool for believing that I would turn into a butterfly. But no one told me the god of creation was a liar and a trickster! How else would they have convinced people to turn into all these bizarre creatures we see today?
Can we turn back the clock, please? Can we turn it back to when I was on the cusp of making this terrible decision just so that I could be more beautiful? The god of creation has screwed me over so I appeal to you, god of time- please turn back the clock so that I can go back to being my old self. I hope I don’t make the same mistake again next time around.
Featured image from http://pollynor.com/ (one of my favourite illustrators)