Around every corner, I hope to see you. Not that I will ever speak, Or you shall ever answer. But to see you, Even just a glance, Fills my heart with flames And makes my hands shake, Longing to hold What was never mine.
sometimes it doesn’t feel like butterflies. when I’m sitting in english class and my arms are shaking and my hands are clammy and all I can think is what if what if what if.
sometimes it doesn’t feel like butterflies. sometimes it feels like slugs and snails and centipedes that crawl. like spiders and caterpillars
I don’t know why people call it butterflies because it isn’t pretty or colourful.