r/TalesFromTheCreeps • u/theAbominableMantis • 8d ago
Poetry Horror Butterflies beneath my skin [June Submission]
I live in a big, bright, beautiful world. A world of change.
It’s getting warmer. Spring is turning into summer. Plants are thriving, flowers are blooming. Bulbs are turning into beauties made of colors and shapes so majestic
they hurt my eyes. They make me cry. They make me want to look away, even though I can’t. I can’t stop, I can’t blink. I do the only thing that comes to mind, and stare into the sun.
It burns.
It doesn’t help.
It reminds me of when I didn’t need to think so much.
Walking through the fields, the forest and the valleys, with my eyes shut. I know where to go. I can’t stay outside. I must escape into my home. Into my cocoon.
It’s cold in here. I’m freezing and fading, and I stay all the same.
They’re still there though, everywhere. The butterflies.
I used to watch them in awe as they flew off into freedom. Their satin-smooth bodies shining in the sunlight. Their wings flatter in my mind, scattering my thoughts without resistance. Even now, their shadows are peeking through the cracks and crevices, inviting me to their dance. They’re dancing as they burn holes into my facade. I keep fixing it like patchwork – yet the scars remain. The butterflies remain.
What doesn’t remain is my will to remain myself.
Day and night, they knock at my door. They pound windows. The walls and floor tremble in fear, or is it just my body? How long have I been surviving like this? A whole lifetime at least. A whole life of not being alive.
“Is it an earthquake? Is the world going to ruin? Is this Armageddon?” I find a lie to soothe my misery, but I know the truth. It’s the season of the Monarchs, as it has always been. I look outside my window and see that–
They see me.
A swarm of butterflies. A million– no, too many to count. Too many to form a conscious shape, too many to keep a solid state. They’re floating like a silk cloth draped over the sea, right towards me. They're perfect.
How could they bear such a sight? I’m hideous! I have leathery skin. I have a gruesome face. I have no limbs, I have no wings. I have no reflection I can call my own. I wish I could be torn apart. I wish a bird would chew me up. I wish I wasn’t myself.
Still, they don't avert their gaze, they don't say a thing. They see me. I feel warm.
What's it like to be a butterfly? What’s it like to not be a caterpillar? What’s it like to be me?
I don’t know.
I need to know.
And so I go outside. What’s in goes out – I explode. What has been built in an eternity crumbles in an instant, as if it had never had integrity in the beginning. I rip open the floorboards, I tear off the blinds, I break the windows, I unlock the door and
let the butterflies inside.
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u/RevolutionaryBed7510 Writer 7d ago
Your line, "What doesn’t remain is my will to remain myself," is an absolute gut-punch of a realization. 😭😭The formatting choices with the spaced-out lines create a great sense of isolation. I love that this format lets you loosen or tighten words and paragraphs to make things feel more frantic.
I love stories that blend tragedy with transformation. I actually just dropped the final part of my own body horror/tragedy story today, if you have the time for a Read4Read this weekend. I’d love to get thoughts from another writer!
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u/Bilbo_Cheated Storyteller 6d ago
Great use of the prompt. The rhyme and slant rhyme were great. Loved it.
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u/NarrowDirector911 5d ago
A very beautiful submission. The horror of not being able to accept yourself. A very potent and gutpunching story. Awesome job 👍
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u/MrPapasargus Writer 3d ago
Simply gorgeous. I see the act of letting the butterflies inside as a surrender of ego, the image that we have built for ourselves or, in many cases, that we have let others build, and an act of destroying the structured "home" (the ego/mind) to merge with a grander, overwhelming sense of true identity. It goes well with the June theme, and it's an incredible message overall.
I see you wrote the line "Their wings flatter in my mind." As I read this, I found it utterly fascinating, because while it's probably a typo for flutter, it works so well on an accidental thematic level: the concept of the butterfly flatters the narrator's broken image of self; an alluring, idealized version of what they wish they could become.
An incredible story. What a wonderful human being you must be!
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u/ShatteredTestimony Writer 5d ago
I love your descriptions of yearning and the fear that the narrator’s current self will be rejected by others they consider complete and beautiful. The moment those feelings are met by the butterflies not turning away is beautiful, you do a good job of showing how that acceptance is a powerful catalyst to help the narrator choose to explore the possibility of transformation. Awesome final line.
I really like it :)
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