There have always been butterflies appearing in my life.
My childhood of lies, violence and abuse were made beautiful by the buddleia bush that invited butterflies to show me there is beauty in everything.
My pregnancy was a miracle, and I grew my own butterfly.
When my husband jumped and took his life, my daughter had a butterfly farm in her bedroom.
We thought it hadn’t worked so I put it on the balcony that he jumped from.
The next day the farm was full of butterflies and we released them over the balcony.
I searched for oblivion in drugs, I searched to fix my ugly inside.
The first time I put a crack pipe in my mouth the butterflies danced in my mind.
written by jane