Katie Bildstein

Red Vines

Sound the siren. 
Old habits return like ghosts in the wind. 
I never thought I'd be back down here. 
Black and gray, disillusioned,
I've been working in the devil's garden. 
I've sat beneath his trees so long the roots have grown up my legs.  The caterpillars become butterflies only for a day,

then wither up and die. 
Just as we spend our whole lives working
for an idea of a life that is drilled in us at a young age. 
I will remain down here. 
I will make my cocoon and laugh
at its inviting warmth and beauty. 
I will remain in the cold darkness of the night. 
I will forever remain a caterpillar.