butter--fly

I don't see you moping in the corner.
I don't see your tears every night.
I was just a moment, fleeting by.
You grasped me and then let go.

How can you say such loving words
Only to take it back soon enough
And I am left with my battered wings
Attempting to fly, but not quite.

I am crippled, yet I was supposed to be
something beautiful, ethereal, pleasant
Yet, your release led me to be
distorted, maimed and heartbroken.

How do you live with yourself?