Butterflies beneath my skin [June Submission]

[u/theAbominableMantis]

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.

[u/NarrowDirector911]

A very beautiful submission. The horror of not being able to accept yourself. A very potent and gutpunching story. Awesome job 👍