Moth to a Flame

Old poem I wrote. Enjoy


Well helloMoth is my nameI flit, I flyDon’t ask whyAs I eat my clothAnd devour your lampshadeOn my latest escapadeUgly sister of Madame Butterfly
They say it is bad for youIt will killBut I love the thrillMaybe it will make me illOr maybe tiredWill I be unsureOr wiredOr scared like a child running from a bee?
Oh the flame is so meDear Abby want some adviceI never met a viceI didn’t likeI didn’t befriendHow does the story end in the land of pretend?With my friends Tina, Mia and Jack?Or will it be a stranger I have yet to meet?
I go towards the flameThe flame I admireThe demise I desireOh woe is meWired to dieBut loving the thrillThe past times that make me highThe past time that will kill
The flame envelops meOh moonlight nightDeath, silence, blackDarkness, howling, pain,Loss, crying, dear motherSo sorry to go so soonBut wait, not deadReady to tackle another adventure
Fuck you Madame Butterfly


Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Paperback available on Amazon and 877-Buy-Book
E-Book available on Kindle and Nook
Audiobook available on itunes and Audible this Spring
www.youtube.com/aprilthestarr
Portion of proceeds go to RAINN