butterflies

when I hear  her voice
i still get butterflies
wrapping themselves
around my esophagus like a noose
hanging my heart from a string
like a piñata
as we talk
each word
swings with the fierceness of a 10 year old boy
high on processed sugar and misplaced anger
too scared to come down from his sugar rush
sending thoughts of what could have never been
crashing into my soul
until all of the butterflies
have died

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