Their wings tickling your sides and fluttering through you.

They kiss you from within and make you feel afloat and nervous.

They spew uncertainty into the air and it hangs in your throat.

The won’t stop the fluttering and tickling and sometimes I think they’re gnawing at me instead. The wind beneath them flowing in between their sweeping of the air fills my head and now I am no longer nervous, but anticipatory and worried. All at the same time.

I am sick. I am shaking. And they are still a fluttering. Kissing me from the inside and tickling through my veins. Blood no longer pulses through me but they do.

The butterflies.

And it freaking sucks.