Louwelyn started writing poems since third grade. Writing has always been and will always be her passion and source of inspiration.
I was once a caterpillar that hatched from an egg.
A creature that gaze at you, admiring you at all times.
Yet now, I can't look at you anymore.
I can't even spare a glance your way.
I can't look at you because you hurt me, a lonely caterpillar.
You hurt me. Of all people you should know why I'm feeling this way.
You're my cocoon after all.
You shoved me out forcefully without thinking if I will survive.
And you asked me what my problem was.
Why am I not talking to you?
You asked me what my problem was and that hurts me.
More than you could ever imagine.
You don't know why I'm hurt.
Yet you are my cocoon.
You are my person.
To make things simple as complex they are.
Let me tell you just this once, you, you are the reason why I'm hurting, why I'm sad.
It pains me to look at you.
It suffocates me to be with you.
You don't get to ask questions.
Just let me be the one talking. Just this time.
After all, I can no longer be a pupa because you shoved me out of my cocoon.
And now I am asking myself, am I this bad to feel this way?
You're my home after all. My cocoon.
But maybe I love you this much. That's why I'm devastated and broken and hurting. I always stand by you no matter what happens.
I supported your wishes and helped you in any way possible.
I shared all your burdens, your problems, your secrets you can't even share with others.
Yet despite all these things, you deserted me when I needed your hand.
You made me feel that you cannot support me.
That thing I asked you for, it was supposed to be memorable.
It was supposed to be lovely.
But when I look back, I will always remember your disapproving gaze.
Your words should voice out phrases of support like a pupa nourishing a caterpillar. But I hear disgust.
I, a lonely caterpillar became lonelier as seconds passed by.
I feel worthless. It looks like I've done nothing for you.
Maybe you're right. Because I only ate and ate and ate your leaves everyday.
And now I'm lost, and hungry and tired.
I lost my courage, my confidence.
I felt nothing because I have nothing.
I don't have anything not even me.
Maybe you resent me for behaving this way.
Believe me I am feeling that way too.
I always think of the days where I can talk to you about anything.
I want to smile and laugh with you.
And I'm afraid these days will be long forgotten.
Maybe I can't return anymore.
Because you broke me.
I know you will not acknowledge anything.
After all, you're all mighty and proud.
You can't be wrong because you're you.
And I'm wrong because it is me.
I am who I am.
I tried so hard to think that you were right and I was wrong.
I thought it will put things back the way it used to be.
But I was so wrong.
And I can't talk to you because you won't listen.
You'll say and you'll continuously insist that you're right.
All the time.
I can't talk to you anymore.
I'm afraid that we'll fall back further from each other.
Further and further that I will not be able to recall how good it was to be lingering in your arms.
Maybe I loved my stay with you this much.
That even I have no chances to become a butterfly, I'm still longing to be beside you.
Every word I wrote pricks my heart.
Because reality hurts.
And the truth is all these happened once to a lonely caterpillar.
A caterpillar which can no longer be in a pupa.
And no more chances to be a butterfly.
Because you shoved me out of my cocoon.
And deeper I fall.
Until I can no longer feel.
Until I can no longer see.
Until I can no longer remember who I am.
Until I can no longer think who I wanted to be.
Until I can no longer imagine that I was once a lonely caterpillar.
The Life Cycle of a Butterfly
Ashley Morris from Huntington, WV on April 17, 2018:
There is a lot of pain conveyed in this poem. You have a gift for writing; keep it up!