I Box Up All The Butterflies

I find it difficult to
relax in the summertime
with all the flowers in bloom
I creep across the countryside
with my net and my bait
and a pocketful of baler twine
I break the promises I make
as I box up all the butterflies

I ruin everything
as I sit in a field of grass in the spring
listening to the beat of its little heart and to its wings
struggling for air under an upturned glass
and I put pins through its wings
and I bottle it up
I box it up and bury it in my heart

just as I know my friends
I also know my enemies
are the birds and the bees
and my own little insecurities
I creep around in the dark
and I tear up all the dandelions
and I break my own heart
as I box up all the butterflies

tirelessly following
its tiny butterfly tracks across the fields in the spring
with a plastic carrier bag full of fish hooks and string
I lay a little matchbox trap and
I put pins through its wings and I bottle it up
I box it up and bury it in my heart

I folded up its furry wings and opened up its little heart
it might sound stupid but something about it made me want to pull it apart

I ruin everything
as I sit in a field of grass in the spring
listening to the beat of its little heart and to its wings
struggling for air under an upturned glass
and I put pins through its wings
and I bottle it up
I box it up and bury it in my heart