I sit here with butterflies in my stomach

My heart like a thoroughbred

My mind craving to be loved again


But here she comes

From the depths of my bones

The younger me pleading to run

Speaking venom and spitting fire

“He doesn’t mean it”

“It won’t last”

“He’ll just use you”

“It’s not worth it”


She gave up a long time ago

Made a home in my lonely soul

Tore my memories to weave for warmth


Swore never to express her love again

Stored it in a box under her bed

Poured the pain into a bottle of gin

And chased it with adrenaline

I can’t blame her really

She has her reasons


But I wonder when she’ll settle down

Let go of her doubts

If she’ll ever open the window

To watch the butterflies again