Butterflies
i may be over you,
completely out of love,
drained of the infatuation.
but i still get butterflies when i see you.
when you walk in the room.
when you smile.
they come alive, eating at my heart.
telling me to try and relight the candle,
that once used to burn and now sits in ashes.
what do i do now that your candle burned out too?
Copyright © Stella Macqueen | Year Posted 2022
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment