at one time
i felt important
not essential
but
like
maybe
i mattered

the reality
was
it was
a
misplaced
misread
misinterpreted
mistaken
feeling

in the end
i really
wasn’t

the sunshine fell like rain, but each ray somehow missed him, a perpetual shadow forming around like a cocoon, the warmth of the day missing in the haze of mere existence

perhaps the shadow wrapped around him will facilitate change, a growth, perhaps this isn’t his final form, the shapeless malaise a simple malady, his pupa shall emerge changed

he hopes to wriggle free, extend wings, a moth set loose upon the night, but fear strangles him, some moths have no mouths, only sustained by the fat they stored and hoarded

he will streak across the night, drawn to her light yet unable to grab her attention, as futile in change as he was before, eating leaves and dreaming, now flying and still nothing