Butterfly.

No, I do not belong here, I cannot become one of these people. I'm all love and they'll burn me with their hatred. I'm a butterfly and they won't let me fly. I'm a rose and they appreciate my beauty by plucking me. I do not belong here. Lets fly. Lets run away to our neverland.

Words will silence me.

There are some thoughts, some feelings that provoke you to write, so beautifully, that it feels like the whole universe wants you to write. And then there are those esoteric feelings, those puzzling thoughts, that never allow you to write. Overthinking is what I name it. It kills you. And you cannot express it, not even to that piece of paper.

For I've been fond of your darkness. And I contemplate your esoteric thoughts. Your flawless words, they take my breath away. Every word you utter is enchanting. You're my fantasy. And I'll follow your soul to discover the beauty of your world. I'll meet you in your hell and I'll make it our heaven.