I never liked that butterfly feeling.
all I ever pictured inside my intestines were blind moths, battering around my insides which made me nauseous.
I never wanted to have that feeling after the first time I did.
I felt *****. and sorry. and stupid even.
I don't think that's how all first crushes work.
I think that butterflies rest in cocoons inside children's stomachs until one day someone wakes the sleeping insect and the flight begins.
I think that moths were always inside of me, that they buzz around and knock on the lining of my body till I ache with despair.
I think that you weren't spring rolling in, you weren't here to open up a cocoon that was never there.
I think you were an unexpected light source;
sunshine on a day where there was 100% chance of rain.
I think that when the lights reach the moths that rested inside my stomach and mind and chest, it caused them to go wild and swarm around dramatically, just like the first time.
my entire body is a deserted island that's always expecting a hurricane.
any sign of nature hides behind brain cells and blood vessels and waits for the rain to stop.
but when the rain stops, and the moths that inhabit this body come out to dance,
I shut them down.
I turn away from the light, I pull out my darkest clouds and find shelter in the fog.
I didn't want to stop the rain, I knew I would miss splashing in the puddles.
but then you appeared, peaking from behind the clouds,
and nothing could stop nature.