I have something of yours

I know it's been awhile,

but better late than never, right?

That's why I'm at your door.

Not for you,

but for me

to move on.

I cannot carry them for you anymore.

I am returning the butterflies you gave me.

I don't want them anymore.

They used to dance in my belly,

flitting about and pollenating my heart,

but they have become moths

eating holes in my stomach

and heart.

Take them back,

before they completely destroy me self-esteem.

And so with what is left of my heart

I will go on.