i know this is in creative and should be. however, it explains, for me, my dissociative experience right now so appropriately.

in the corners of my mind many webs have been woven
for any intruder entering in their fate's already chosen
the moths that bounce about in a dreary, aimless flight
are caught within the materpiece of quiet power and might
the relentless thrashing that invades my every thought
will soon be no more when in the hidden traps they're caught
yet what about the butterfly that chance might bring my way
i would like to know its beauty and welcome it to stay
but the webs do not distinquish the butterfly from moth
and within the well spun lairs they both to me are lost