Every season, the cocoon of comfortable thoughts wrap me
I entangle in their familiarity and stay until it suffocates
Then I strive and struggle to break free
Whilst secretly seeking another bigger cocoon
Even though my muscle know of the memory when I flew
It stays put
For I don’t recognise the butterfly
She is beautiful
But her eyes are still blurry from all the experience
Why she can’t stay still
She grew last time from staying still
Is she revered for being short lived
Flutter and Glide 