What does it feel like to be a butterfly? To be born again? To leave the old life behind; old customs, old body, old places. To embrace the new and tread the allure of unfamiliar territory?

Is it something like growing out of your kiddy shoes; you know – the ones that lit up when you walked? Or like silently packing your last  sweatshirt as you whisper goodbye to the teary eyes of the person you once thought was forever?

Is it like the heavy heart and slow motion hand that unwillingly closes the novel that enraptured your soul? Or like the volcanic laughter that erupts when you hear a good joke?

Is it like the feeling of Dejavu? Or more like flipping through long forgotten memories captured in still photos stored away in the depths of your closets?

Maybe it’s like a delicious morning stretch after a sweet night’s sleep? Or perhaps like a pink-fire sunset melting into the ocean?

Or could it be a little of everything? Not so much one more than another. A bittersweet conglomerate of past, present and projected future, whose colorful eyes fiercely vibrate to the dream of you. Of you who are becoming. Of you who are awaiting to birth.

*Image credit to google images

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