Sweet butterflies,
In my stomach again.
Eyes lock,
Blood running again.
Take it slow,
No running again.
Don't question the flow.
But remember not to pretend.
Butterflies flying again.
In my tummy,
When you're looking at me.
Remember,
Not to give too much of me to you.
Like the last time,
And that blew.
No more pieces to give.
Too many holes in my heart.
But the butterflies,
In my stomach.
Sweet butterflies,
Flying again.
Remind me that,
There will always be something again.
There would always be light inside of me.
Regeneration.
YOU ARE READING
She.
PoetryPoetry, scenes and short stories written from the fingertips of a girl who doesn't know her own heart. She's filled each corner with love and light that she thought was pure just to watch it rot off and fill like a gaping dark hole. But these heartb...
