That’s just that old blueprint shit
She whispered as she inhaled new air
Slowly she exhaled 
She saw tattered pieces 
of paper
small holes and creases
where it had been folded so many times
and tucked in her pocket
lint-laden with the bits of
unnecessary guilt and shame
guilt for what she did
and what she did not to do.
That's just part of that old blueprint shit
Breathing in now more slowly
she imagined how a caterpillar must feel on the ground
imping along on its belly, avoiding hungry birds and searching for tasty leaves
She imagined it climbing up to a higher branch 
to become a cocoon. Does it know?
know that it’s departing from its caterpillar blueprint?
does it even have consciousness enough to experience regret? 
does it know it will fly one day?