Butterflies

butterflies

I want to be the girl in dusty victorian blues,
sitting lonely on the fence, dreaming music,
wanting you.

There are things I remember that I am afraid
to forget, landscapes and smiles and brief strands of
thought between us,

days when I wandered ghostlike and somehow
you found me, moments I thought you loved me,
I thought I loved you—

I am being eaten from the inside by
thousands of hungry butterflies. I feel
a little hollow,

but I don't miss you.

I really liked the first line, but my interest in this piece kind of went down from there. Perhaps it was the awkward structure - I didn't agree with the way you split up the stanzas and had that fragment at the end. Perhaps it was the phrase "I am being eaten from the inside by/thousands of hungry butterflies."

The first stanza was nice - it had lovely imagery and it just pleased me. I suggest that you move "dreaming music" down to be on the last line with "wanting you."

As the poem progresses, however, the tone doesn't have the same feel and it becomes more cliche. I suggest that you find different phrases than "strands of thought" and "I wandered ghostlike". I'm sure you're a talented writer and capable of saying these in different ways.
Also, make me care. I've been through loving someone and then...not...but this poem didn't really make me think of those emotions as much as it could have. I know what you're trying to get at, but you're about 5/8 of the way there.

Great writing!
Colleen