Follow the Butterflies

Now I'm twenty three,
But how can that be?
I didn't want to live, you see.
I've come so far
With all these scars
Caused by a world of liars.
Insignificance, known by name
To be just another useless game
Where all the players are the same.
My arms are covered with butterflies,
An innocent image to another's eyes,
Filling their heads with endless lies...
These harmless creatures do not leave,
But instead, stay to watch me grieve...
Though they tell what I believe...
Let the poor butterflies go.
If you cared, you wouldn't say no.
Would you say you love them so?
The color is red, these simple things,
Dust trails behind their wings.
You will know when the butterfly sings...

That you should let me go.