D.L. Lunsford's Flight of the Butterfly
A writing platform celebrating the freedom of expression and the exploration of God, self and the world.
Rage boiling like water in a heated pot, Can’t turn it off. Pressure in my head, think it might burst. Stars shine even in the daytime Brighter than the sun. My knuckles bleed when I punch the walls, But it doesn’t relieve the pressure Because the faces I want to bash Remain clean and twisted […]
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Originally posted on D.L. Lunsford's Flight of the Butterfly:
Relationships, we’re in more of them than we realize. We have relationships with people, animals, food, money…our comforts. Most of them are business arrangements. We use each other to enrich our lives, animals to provide companionship and protection. We count on our…
When Johnny rammed the gun in my mouth, I felt cold steel and tasted death in the back of my throat. Blood trickled from my lip and dripped on my shirt. I was sure I had lost a couple of teeth, but right this second, it didn’t matter. All I could think about […]
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Your eyes rove over me feasting upon my life. Feverish with anticipation, you flip the pages. I saw your jaw drop when you read what I did with my neighbor. I watched you shake your head disgusted about the way I lied about it. At one point I thought you were going to throw the […]
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They say to find the Lord you need to come into the ark, To leave the safety of the umbrella is insane But sometimes you got to get wet. I found the Lord in the rain. © D.L. Lunsford
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Expectation—a word hanging in the air like stale food. People’s expectations weigh a ton when thrust upon your shoulders. They get so heavy your legs buckle under the pressure. Everything you do contrary to what is expected is criticized and mocked—whether good or bad. When people expect bad from you and you do something good, […]
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I stand before the mirror scowling at the woman there with disgust. I try to turn away but for some reason to study her is a must. So easily I can find many things wrong with her starting from her head, ending with her toes. Oh, God, can’t I just walk away and forget her? […]
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D.L. Lunsford's Flight of the Butterfly 