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...the butterfly has come out of her cocoon, she has awoken, and with her awakening she has seen these two beautiful wings at her side, and at first she didnt know what in gods name she was supposed to do with them, and tried to crawl back into the cocoon where she no longer fit, because pieces of the beautiful wings were now sticking out and people could see, and so she tried to learn to fly, and stumbled so much, and fell, and hurt her wings, and swore she?d never fly again, and decided to anyway, and flew again, and fell, and broke her wings again and again, and got them dirty, and sometimes she would go back and try to find the cocoon she left behind, and since it was no longer there, she tried ripping off her wings, tearing them, doing anything to get rid of them, but somehow they were always there, no matter what she did.  and so she tried to hide her wings with other things, so people wouldnt see their beauty, so she couldnt see their beauty herself, and now she sits here in the corner, in the dark, looking at her beautiful wings and the horrible things shes done to them, and she wraps them around herself and cries because she feels the the amount of damage shes done to them is impossible to fix.  and yet she hasnt sunk into sleep, into complete despair, the butterfly has not died inside, because she sees the light so near to her, calling her, reaching out for her, holding her hand, even, and she remembers the moments she flew, and their beauty, and the moments she flew with others in their beauty, and she longs to join that beauty again, to fly again, forever... the butterfly looks at her wings and is ashamed at what she has done to them, for they look ugly and dirty and torn now, and there is much work to be done in cleaning them up, putting them back together again, making them feel lighter again... but no, she has not given up, she has not died, she will fix her wings, she will make them light again, she will fly again...