i miss the butterflies and all that other
lovey dovey ****.
they must've run out of air in my stomach.

i miss the feeling of someone taking your breath away
like a punch to the gut.
i miss my thoughts being consumed and filled and bursting.

i miss love
and wanting it.
the butterflies are dead in the pit on my stomach and i dont know if that's all i get.

i watch romance movies and wonder about
That Great Love
and if i've used mine up already.

i turned it off because that easier and now the switch is stuck
and for a while i didn't care but now
my fingers aren't strong enough. the fluttering inside me is gone.

it's gone.