Butterflies

What do you call it when you love yourself out of belief in love,

What do you call it when you seek refuge in words 'coz it can only be penned,

Where is the safety belt people promise?

Will it be glittering gold and silvery moon if I just long for it?

What do you call the rose that never reached it's lover,

What do you call that galaxy that is made of less fears and more out of gratitude and compassion,

When do you think that firsts are worth being firsts'

Will red be pink and lavender as the years roll on or it'll be blue ,grey and black?

When can time be defined as right when there's no 'my time', actually,

Where will the bruises go when there'll be surface healing, only,

Can the distance become closer with thoughts of them, solely,

Will we get the answer of strange butterflies or it's Just heavenly?