He Gives Me Butterflies

Let’s talk about ‘sects, baby.

My heart, and other parts, are aflutter. (Photo by Mike Lewinski)

When he makes me feel loved:

He gives me butterflies.

When he doesn’t quite yet give me butterflies:

He gives me caterpillars.

When he’s trying to get in my pants:

He gives me ants.

When he just outright sucks:

He gives me mosquitos.

When he’s in the doghouse:

He gives me fleas.

When he’s bugging me in general:

He gives me flies.

When he likes something I put on the web:

He gives me spiders.

When he’s jumping to conclusions:

He gives me grasshoppers.

When he’s got morning wood:

He gives me termites.

When he makes me scratch my head:

He gives me lice.

When I’m buzzed and he sends a sweet text:

He gives me honey bees.

When I’m buzzed and messaging him on a dating app:

He gives me Bumble bees.

When he’s giving me butterflies, but I feel kind of weird about it:

He gives me moths.

When he upsets me in a way that makes me speak to the lord:

He gives me praying mantises.

When I’m getting played and it stings:

He gives me hornets.

When I get played again because I didn’t learn my lesson:

He gives me murder hornets.

When he mentions his white privilege:

He gives me WASPs.

When he’s ghosting me:

He gives me crickets.

Copywriter by day. Humor writer by night. Exhausted by afternoon. @omgskr / sararunnels.com

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