When I see you I get
butterflies, or rather, my butterflies start
to flap their wings. But,
I’m convinced my butterflies are
special. You see, my butterflies keep me
company.

When my phone makes a gentle
hum, my butterflies wake up. They
know who is texting. When your
hand grazes my shoulder, my butterflies start
to dance. But, when you hurt me, say something that
doesn’t quite sit well in my stomach, my butterflies get
upset. They start to spread their wings and
fly. Out.

Each time I weep, I cry, I scream, my butterflies
escape. They try to comfort me from outside but
I just want them to stay, in,
stay, here,
stay, with me.
Each time I open my mouth, to tell you something you
don’t want to hear, each time I want to tell you to stay,
each time I think you want to listen, one of my butterflies
leaves. They chase after you when I don’t have the courage to.

When you hurt me, my butterflies speed after you, explaining that
everyone has bad days, me included, but hurting the one you love
won’t help, because she’ll take the beating, day in and day out, with the
small hope that you might feel better. When your hand grazes
my shoulder my butterflies reach for your touch, but you
pull away.

When my phone gently buzzes, calling me, distracting me, my
butterflies try to answer for me, because they know who is texting. And
that person isn’t
you.