By Alexia Tzortzis, TIWP Student

Does she put butterflies in your stomach?

That’s what Momma always asked me.

Does she flip your stomach inside out and make your throat close up and you ears turn red?

Yes, Momma.

Then go for it.

Momma, I did.

Momma, I went for it.

But now, oh, now it hurts

Ithurtsuithurtsithurts.

Momma it hurts so bad.

Because her lips are soft and her hair silky and they are both things that I will never be able to touch again.

Momma it hurts because her skin is sweet and her words honey but she left me with a thousand stab wounds.

Momma she had my heart.

She had it from that day in the field when her sleeves were rolled up and her hair was back and her mouth was full and laughing.

Momma it hurts.

It hurts so bad now.

But Momma, every time I see her, the butterflies come back with a vengeance and my stomach flips until it is a twisted mess and my throat closes until I can’t breath and my ears burn.

Momma it hurts to love someone

And I don’t want to do it again.

But Momma try telling the butterflies that.

Because they love to flutter every chance they get.