Are flitting in my **** heart again.
Rip off the wings.
(like that will help)

They drop to my stomach and fly around.
Puke them out.
(they'll be back)

They pull me to you every time I try to turn away.
Crush them.
(good try)

It does not matter what I try.
Burning.
Slashing.
Destroying.
Because those **** butterflies will always fill my soul.
Will you please stop putting them there? \
(probably not)