The wings of butterflies kissed the inside of my stomach,
cleansing my negative mindset, as the insects crawled up,
along the bones which held my lungs together,
allowing my mouth and nose to befriend oxygen,
thus, obscuring my nervousness from your wide-rimmed glasses,
which would alert your eyes of the girl with a developing infatuation.
As the oranges of Monarchs inhabited my organs,
the butterflies continued to journey up,
swirling my left brain into my right,
creating cracks in the cocoon,
I had so tenaciously hidden in my left brain,
hoping the feelings would diminish,
my eyes would reiterate the focus of my peers,
my hands would stop waving to the boy who loved another.
Yet, the wings of these butterflies continue to expand,
never seeming to comprehend that his black pupils,
erupting in kindness and the lyrics of Brendon Urie,
will always long for another.