Butterflies

All of a sudden, it exploded.

The howling wind grazed her skin like a million paper cuts. As the darkness surrounding her closed in, she wondered if the wind was really responsible for the burning pain of the cuts, or if it was her own suppressed feelings assaulting her all at once, unable to be contained anymore, overwhelming her in a furious storm, once again.

Her strength vanishing in the blink of an eye, she let the cuts tear her apart, once again.

She crumbed under the weight of the darkness, her fragile mask of contentment shattering on the floor. Once again.

When the cuts stopped bleeding, she picked the pieces and stuffed them back inside. Once again.