They have no final essence

Ephemeral

Carefree

Like butterflies

darting here and there

Threatening

Like piercing eyes

and a clenched fist

They can be a source of

great joy or harm.

Vessels of love.

Bullets of hurt.

They hold no ultimate power

or meaning.

Yet, if allowed,

do both.

They can be remembered

as something real or

   forgotten as they are not.

They infect and affect my mind.   

Are illusionary

in delusional

and illusionary ways.

Ultimately, not to be trusted

      For their ability to be

      Misinterpreted.