Suicide notes and butterfly kisses

Thought leaves itself trailing in a hologram of sorts
or music
mine no less
and
snakes have heard me think
i swear
when entrenched in abject self-pity.

Thinking
no-one would miss me
corner turned and snake,
extremely venomous,
curled:
poised and
daring me to take that indifferent step.

Later,
pregnant,
i trailed along a riverbank
to see
butterflies playing upon a stem
and co-witnessing them
a snake
peacably prepared to let me be.