Poem that appears on my final Identity project at University.
Remove your mask
show me what you are made of.
Or are you too scared
to find nothing underneath?
I tear apart these love letters,
and no matter where I go,
I find no crux,
But endless emotion.
As twilight crawls
Across the sky
This butterfly begins to tumble (falling gently)
Control yourself (I don't know what control is)
There are no hands on these puppet's strings
Beneath the layers of book
Beneath the butterflies wings,
What creates the energy that lifts?
Where do I stand?
Where is my war?
Where is my control?
A butterfly, born, I have as much choice as I wish
Should I choose not to die, my position relinquished?
How long have I been hanging from the hands of another being?
Do you control emotion, or does emotion control you?