There is a certain kind of feeling
you can only know as a child
and hope to know never again,
and that is the grief experienced once the glimmersheen discovered on your fingers
is revealed to be the evidence
that you have murdered
a particularly breathtaking butterfly.
About Catastrophe Jones
Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.