I want to comfort the world

I want to comfort the world, 

but the world does not accept me. 

It does not want the gentle warnings of a mother, 

who can then comfort you by allowing the reminders that you're not alone. 

It does not want a sibling figure to look after-

a baby bird disregarded from its nest; 

something Earth inhabitants can understand. 

It does not want someone who stands out or puts their thoughts & rules at risk of being changed. 

This understanding is something I have been okay with, but my tongue is over. 

The world does not want someone who can analyze, see the outcome; 

who can come up with solutions, all from the good people. 

I want to comfort the world, 

but how do you comfort something that's so far from being truly comforted?

Growing pains: how things aren't

After living as a butterfly, after living up to the definition of my name 

flying here and there for a while 

I've decided to turn in my wing, to start my journey in relocating my old cocoon, so that I can crawl back into it like a bed or a sleeping bag and go get some rest. 

All of this in hopes of coming out as a caterpillar all over again. 

I never expected for these wings to add weight. I miss the consistency of branches; rather than ruthlessness of the wind that'll push me to the side at with the slightest breeze.

I missed how less than interesting I used to be, being able to crawl along without the worry of being put in a jar for children's enjoyment. 

But now as a butterfly my wings attract more than just my natural predators. Children scope me out by mistaking me as a fairy. 

I crave my protection on stealth like it was when life was once simple.