Half-Breed

When I met you it was like a caterpillar
turning into a butterfly, because I felt
the stirring of something more powerful,
of wings.
But when I was in the chrysalis,
something went wrong and I
came out all messed up.
Like I was part butterfly but still
part caterpillar. And I couldn't
figure out whether to crawl or fly,
but at least I knew what it felt like
to crawl. So I was crawling around,
and you didn't want to squish me,
but you were already flying, and
you couldn't carry me with you.
Of course not. Off you went and now
I don't have you to compare myself to
anymore, so maybe I have to keep being
this strange half-breed, too many legs
for my wings to work. You know that
half-breeds are sterile, like the donkey,
or the baby born of fairy and human.
You know they never understand
the futility of their lives. You know
they don't know that anything's wrong
with them, because all they ever know
is being half and half. You do know,
because you are half and half yourself
and I loved that about you and I thought
it made us perfect, understanding each
other. And then I lost myself
when I lost you.

~November 29, 2010