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?
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