You still give me butterflies in my stomach.
Every time I look into your eyes,
I see our future.
Your beautiful smile
Lights up my world.
I know I shouldn’t feel this way,
But I never want it to end.
When you kiss me,
I get chills down my spine.
When I think of losing you,
I cry.
When you hold me tight,
I never want you to let go.
I see you with someone else,
And I get jealous.
I see how happy you are without me.
You make your own happiness,
Yet I still wish it was because of me.
We still have our promise.
I will always support you,
And you will always support me.
Even through our rough points,
I know you’re still by my side.
I read a fictional love story,
But still think of you.
Even though you broke my heart,
I forgive you,
And I will never let you go.
I like butterflies. In the my garden I see butterflies.
I think that the butttherflies are very important, because they keep the nature.
And they are very beautiful. I love them so much.
butterflies in my stomach is
a cliche but still translates better than
an elaborate description of what
I feel when the plane takes off
and when it lands somewhere new
and I am in the butterfly’s stomach
and that too is cliche
Butterflies in my stomach every time I think about that word. It’s not the one you think about, the one that causes your heart to swell. It’s the butterflies that accompany a feeling of dread before your life changes. Funny that the word that causes this feeling in me is Cancer.
I have recently been reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar with my son Jack on a daily basis. He loves the beautiful colours and little holes to feel with his little fingers and as each day goes by he seems to enjoy and understand more and more.
As I opened the door a sudden surge of warmth hit me. There was activity everywhere, buzzing people darting around excitedly clambering for a better view.
Fluttering and swirling around me, I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. They glowed a vibrant blue, and somewhere in my head I knew that they probably weren’t going to be the best for me — they were altered by the radiation that had plagued this planet after humanity left it — but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from them. Electricity raced up my arms as they began to land on my outstretched arms, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
ITS THE SAME DAMN THING ASS TWO DAYS AGO OMFG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
a simplistic creature. something so delicate, that you’re finger won’t feel its presence. but people miles away, unaware of its existence will feel its pressure as hurricanes form around the bay. they will fall and the houses will melt into the water. but you with the butterfly? you’re house is a sanctuary for the destructive bliss.
“That’s going to take some time,” he said. “This is not a fly by night operation. It will take time to infiltrate here.”
“These butterflies are asking to be pinned on the table,” said the voice on the phone. “They are not looking, we can come up on their blindside and they won’t even notice the shade we cast. You just need to be in the right place and they will float right by you. All I am asking is that you are ready and wave the net over them.”
i really like butterflies they are very pretty. i particularly like the orange and black ones but i also really like purple and yellow and blue ones too. i used to participate in the butterfly project.. it really helped me to stop cutting. it was a sweet way to remind me that people still love me and so i might get butterflies tattooed on me somewhere maybe my wrist or my shoulder I don’t know yet i haven’t decided. i had a teacher once named mrs butterfield.
butterflies are beautiful creatures. they start off as caterpillars. i like the orange and black butterflies personally… but i also like purple and yellow ones. I’ve always wanted a butterfly tattoo based on the butterfly project to help with cutting. it was very affective and helped me to stop cutting. butterflies are so pretty i think i want one on my wrist or maybe my shoulder as a tattoo. i like them. they are super cool. caterpillars are kinda furry… butterflies are way better than moths moths are gross and weird and smelly… but butterflies are beautiful. i had a teacher once her name was mrs butterfield… she reminded me of a butterfly bc she was really pretty and sweet and i just loved her and i miss her a lot i wish i could get in touch with her she was my kindergarten teacher
Don’t tell the scientists – or the entomologists – but there’s really only one difference between moths and butterflies: beauty.
The world is becoming increasingly mothy; society is dark and our hearts are ugly. We swarm, frenzied, around whichever light shines brightest now, fighting for its attention, achieving nothing. Musicians, athletes, actors – all the wrong types of star.
My only hope is that this darkness is our cocoon, and we will emerge more beautiful in unforeseeable times.
this is what I’m supposed to be feeling
I’m awash with calmness
the only thing that flutters are my eyelids
across pages that I have yet to read
things to see and people to understand
butterflies fly around me, they are placed in my hair like bobby pins. They stick to my clothes like they are part of the fabric. They flutter in my stomach when I am flustered. They fly in my brain, as dark and as beautiful as my thoughts. They sit on my neck and chest like a necklace. They surround me like the memories. Butterflies are such a big part of my life that if they went extinct, I would as well.
There were butterflies on every single flower. I could hardly believe it. From daffodil, to daisy, to orchid, a monarch perched upon each.
“What could this mean?” she asked.
I had no idea.
Mariposas. matched on both sides. made to look like eyes. just drift along. children enchanted. teens inspired. adults comforted. and elderly reminiscing. the beauty and symbolism of butterflies remain a mystery to all but one must ask, why are they so beautiful.
One of the many little things we would miss if gone, but never notice while here.
Mariposas. matched on both sides. made to look like eyes. just drift along. children enchanted. teens inspired. adults comforted. and elderly reminicing. the beauty and symbolism of butterflies remain a mystery to all but one must ask, why are they so beautiful.
When I first read this word, I saw the word ‘butt’ and I was prepared to write about ‘butts’ for the entirety of 60 seconds. I immediately thought of very round, very perky butts. Then, of course, I think of excellent looking guys with very attractive dairy-airs. You just can’t help it when you think of butts. But then I saw ‘er flies’ and I couldn’t help but wonder, at least for a second, what is a ‘butt er flies’?
Kinda like that one time in school, I wondered, “What is an ass ass in?”
Floating, flying, colorful wings. Spring time, hot outside. Swimming in the pool. My mother loved purple butterflies. Chasing them around and trying to catch them with a net. Beautiful colors. Watching them fly, looking like they are floating through the air. The feeling in your stomach when you fall in love. Gorgeous.
These are some of the most delicate creatures on the planet and evoke feelings of calm and wonderment in me whenever I see one.
Sadly, I feel that we are seeing less and less of these unique creatures.
I most remember learning about them as a chld.
Perched on the petals of my favorite summer bushes are so many butterflies that I can’t count. And now that the dog has discovered their presence, they are searching for a safer place to perch. So much for serenity now.
I have butterflies in my stomach right now. Being put in positions to think about stuff on my toes always puts me in that situation. I can see this tool helping me with that problem already. I am feeling more and more confident with every word that i type. I will get over my fear of Public speaking as well.
Butterflies are generally adored, however, I have a different opinion. I find them annoying. Let me explain. When I am washing my car, butterflies just fly into me out of nowhere. Apparently, they’re attracted to the water?
My stomach is fluttering as I look up into Tucker’s eyes. He’s staring at me through the rearview, waiting for me to answer his question, but my jaw feels like it’s stuck. “I – um -” I start, and Jack snickers quietly from the passenger seat.
“Cat got your tongue?” he asks, and I imagine for a moment what it’d feel like to slap that smug little smirk off of his face.
The butterflies in my stomach are raging now, pressing against the edges of my skin and I feel myself getting dizzy as I maintain eye contact with the boy I’ve been in love with for nearly seven years. “I don’t mind at all,” I say, the words threatening to choke me as they leave my lips. “The more the merrier.”
i saw the butterflies in the distance. i wished that i could go and see them for real. i couldn’t i was stuck inside. as i had been for all of my life.
Two, three, four butterflies settling on flower stems and drinking their blood supply. Look at those beautiful, ravenous beasts! So fragile, and yet such a vibrant display.
Now they flutter to the window and unfold their wings. You can see the fake eyes from the other side of the room. Are they watching you or not? Somehow, you’re having a difficult time discerning reality from illusion.
Grama was not a terribly expressive person. near the time of her death she started talking about butterflies. And now, whenever i see them and that blue blue sky, I know that deep down past my nearly athiest heart, I know she is still with me.
They are the fliers on the flowers, the devourers of nectar, the flit in the bellies of the nervous majority. Yellows, blacks, reds, blues, keeping the color in the skies.
The butterflies in her stomach felt nice, but also made her want to run away and jump under her covers and never come out of her room again. She could not believe she was having these feelings about her best friend. It was the most cliche thing of all cliche things! It was the plot device of every cheesy novel….
I never got butterflies around any guys since I have been smart.
I am my own guy, and I cannot get butterfly around me.
Well, that’s what any normal girls would have written about this word.
Anyway anyway.
I once saw a dead butterfly in school.
The poor butterfly was half smashed.
It was yellow.
I knelt down, to touch the butterfly for the very first, and last time.
My fingers were yellow.
There isn’t any creature in this world that is as cute and light as the butterflies. Butterflies are found in various sizes and colours. But the most interesting aspect is its charm.
Her stomach jumped at the sight of him. She tried to keep a calm facade, staring at her computer, trying to appear like she was working on something important. He passed, not looking at her until the last possible moment. It seemed almost too planned.
Nervous: there are butterflies in your stomach. That’s how the expression goes, but it also accurately describes the fluttering she makes you feel even now. It’s an effect that’s grown over the years. You fumble sometimes and you know she hears the quiver in your voice, the pauses, the not always subtle subject changes as you angle in on information about her inner thought processes and base of knowledge – how much are you alike, anyway?
She sees the shiftiness in your eyes when you’re testing her because of something you’ve gleaned off her without her quite noticing the source material you’re referencing, but she knows you didn’t just get all of a sudden curious about anyone particular subject. The questions are phrased a little too specifically. You can’t help it. It’s the effect of the butterflies. Anything that helps them settle gives you hope their wings might not beat so strong next time. You think you need to be smooth when you should just be yourself. Little do you know she wouldn’t stifle the beating wings within herself. It makes her feel all the more alive. It’s a compliment to the source, she feels, for without them would she even know how excited you make her feel each time?
You still give me butterflies in my stomach.
Every time I look into your eyes,
I see our future.
Your beautiful smile
Lights up my world.
I know I shouldn’t feel this way,
But I never want it to end.
When you kiss me,
I get chills down my spine.
When I think of losing you,
I cry.
When you hold me tight,
I never want you to let go.
I see you with someone else,
And I get jealous.
I see how happy you are without me.
You make your own happiness,
Yet I still wish it was because of me.
We still have our promise.
I will always support you,
And you will always support me.
Even through our rough points,
I know you’re still by my side.
I read a fictional love story,
But still think of you.
Even though you broke my heart,
I forgive you,
And I will never let you go.
I like butterflies. In the my garden I see butterflies.
I think that the butttherflies are very important, because they keep the nature.
And they are very beautiful. I love them so much.
butterflies in my stomach is
a cliche but still translates better than
an elaborate description of what
I feel when the plane takes off
and when it lands somewhere new
and I am in the butterfly’s stomach
and that too is cliche
Butterflies in my stomach every time I think about that word. It’s not the one you think about, the one that causes your heart to swell. It’s the butterflies that accompany a feeling of dread before your life changes. Funny that the word that causes this feeling in me is Cancer.
I have recently been reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar with my son Jack on a daily basis. He loves the beautiful colours and little holes to feel with his little fingers and as each day goes by he seems to enjoy and understand more and more.
As I opened the door a sudden surge of warmth hit me. There was activity everywhere, buzzing people darting around excitedly clambering for a better view.
Fluttering and swirling around me, I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. They glowed a vibrant blue, and somewhere in my head I knew that they probably weren’t going to be the best for me — they were altered by the radiation that had plagued this planet after humanity left it — but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from them. Electricity raced up my arms as they began to land on my outstretched arms, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
ITS THE SAME DAMN THING ASS TWO DAYS AGO OMFG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
a simplistic creature. something so delicate, that you’re finger won’t feel its presence. but people miles away, unaware of its existence will feel its pressure as hurricanes form around the bay. they will fall and the houses will melt into the water. but you with the butterfly? you’re house is a sanctuary for the destructive bliss.
“That’s going to take some time,” he said. “This is not a fly by night operation. It will take time to infiltrate here.”
“These butterflies are asking to be pinned on the table,” said the voice on the phone. “They are not looking, we can come up on their blindside and they won’t even notice the shade we cast. You just need to be in the right place and they will float right by you. All I am asking is that you are ready and wave the net over them.”
i really like butterflies they are very pretty. i particularly like the orange and black ones but i also really like purple and yellow and blue ones too. i used to participate in the butterfly project.. it really helped me to stop cutting. it was a sweet way to remind me that people still love me and so i might get butterflies tattooed on me somewhere maybe my wrist or my shoulder I don’t know yet i haven’t decided. i had a teacher once named mrs butterfield.
butterflies are beautiful creatures. they start off as caterpillars. i like the orange and black butterflies personally… but i also like purple and yellow ones. I’ve always wanted a butterfly tattoo based on the butterfly project to help with cutting. it was very affective and helped me to stop cutting. butterflies are so pretty i think i want one on my wrist or maybe my shoulder as a tattoo. i like them. they are super cool. caterpillars are kinda furry… butterflies are way better than moths moths are gross and weird and smelly… but butterflies are beautiful. i had a teacher once her name was mrs butterfield… she reminded me of a butterfly bc she was really pretty and sweet and i just loved her and i miss her a lot i wish i could get in touch with her she was my kindergarten teacher
Don’t tell the scientists – or the entomologists – but there’s really only one difference between moths and butterflies: beauty.
The world is becoming increasingly mothy; society is dark and our hearts are ugly. We swarm, frenzied, around whichever light shines brightest now, fighting for its attention, achieving nothing. Musicians, athletes, actors – all the wrong types of star.
My only hope is that this darkness is our cocoon, and we will emerge more beautiful in unforeseeable times.
this is what I’m supposed to be feeling
I’m awash with calmness
the only thing that flutters are my eyelids
across pages that I have yet to read
things to see and people to understand
The town gathers for the milk parade.
I walk out of the cheese arcade
in time to see the milk maids.
My pants are like a live grenade.
One sees me and give me the eyes.
My pants stir, she’s got a rise.
She hints to her creamy prize.
The crowd gasps as butter flies.
butterflies fly around me, they are placed in my hair like bobby pins. They stick to my clothes like they are part of the fabric. They flutter in my stomach when I am flustered. They fly in my brain, as dark and as beautiful as my thoughts. They sit on my neck and chest like a necklace. They surround me like the memories. Butterflies are such a big part of my life that if they went extinct, I would as well.
There were butterflies on every single flower. I could hardly believe it. From daffodil, to daisy, to orchid, a monarch perched upon each.
“What could this mean?” she asked.
I had no idea.
Mariposas. matched on both sides. made to look like eyes. just drift along. children enchanted. teens inspired. adults comforted. and elderly reminiscing. the beauty and symbolism of butterflies remain a mystery to all but one must ask, why are they so beautiful.
One of the many little things we would miss if gone, but never notice while here.
Mariposas. matched on both sides. made to look like eyes. just drift along. children enchanted. teens inspired. adults comforted. and elderly reminicing. the beauty and symbolism of butterflies remain a mystery to all but one must ask, why are they so beautiful.
When I first read this word, I saw the word ‘butt’ and I was prepared to write about ‘butts’ for the entirety of 60 seconds. I immediately thought of very round, very perky butts. Then, of course, I think of excellent looking guys with very attractive dairy-airs. You just can’t help it when you think of butts. But then I saw ‘er flies’ and I couldn’t help but wonder, at least for a second, what is a ‘butt er flies’?
Kinda like that one time in school, I wondered, “What is an ass ass in?”
hmm, you sleep with butterflies? well I sleep with butter and fries. Said by: the food truck guy
Floating, flying, colorful wings. Spring time, hot outside. Swimming in the pool. My mother loved purple butterflies. Chasing them around and trying to catch them with a net. Beautiful colors. Watching them fly, looking like they are floating through the air. The feeling in your stomach when you fall in love. Gorgeous.
flies
butter
fliflies
butdontfly
flyingbutt
buttface
flyingbuttface
These are some of the most delicate creatures on the planet and evoke feelings of calm and wonderment in me whenever I see one.
Sadly, I feel that we are seeing less and less of these unique creatures.
I most remember learning about them as a chld.
Perched on the petals of my favorite summer bushes are so many butterflies that I can’t count. And now that the dog has discovered their presence, they are searching for a safer place to perch. So much for serenity now.
I have butterflies in my stomach right now. Being put in positions to think about stuff on my toes always puts me in that situation. I can see this tool helping me with that problem already. I am feeling more and more confident with every word that i type. I will get over my fear of Public speaking as well.
Butterflies are generally adored, however, I have a different opinion. I find them annoying. Let me explain. When I am washing my car, butterflies just fly into me out of nowhere. Apparently, they’re attracted to the water?
My stomach is fluttering as I look up into Tucker’s eyes. He’s staring at me through the rearview, waiting for me to answer his question, but my jaw feels like it’s stuck. “I – um -” I start, and Jack snickers quietly from the passenger seat.
“Cat got your tongue?” he asks, and I imagine for a moment what it’d feel like to slap that smug little smirk off of his face.
The butterflies in my stomach are raging now, pressing against the edges of my skin and I feel myself getting dizzy as I maintain eye contact with the boy I’ve been in love with for nearly seven years. “I don’t mind at all,” I say, the words threatening to choke me as they leave my lips. “The more the merrier.”
Butterflies come from catterpillars.
i saw the butterflies in the distance. i wished that i could go and see them for real. i couldn’t i was stuck inside. as i had been for all of my life.
Butterflies flutter by and all is well with the world.
Two, three, four butterflies settling on flower stems and drinking their blood supply. Look at those beautiful, ravenous beasts! So fragile, and yet such a vibrant display.
Now they flutter to the window and unfold their wings. You can see the fake eyes from the other side of the room. Are they watching you or not? Somehow, you’re having a difficult time discerning reality from illusion.
Grama was not a terribly expressive person. near the time of her death she started talking about butterflies. And now, whenever i see them and that blue blue sky, I know that deep down past my nearly athiest heart, I know she is still with me.
They are the fliers on the flowers, the devourers of nectar, the flit in the bellies of the nervous majority. Yellows, blacks, reds, blues, keeping the color in the skies.
The butterflies in her stomach felt nice, but also made her want to run away and jump under her covers and never come out of her room again. She could not believe she was having these feelings about her best friend. It was the most cliche thing of all cliche things! It was the plot device of every cheesy novel….
The butterflies get over the builfing like a hurricane. They all are in fury and flavolous shiny
I never got butterflies around any guys since I have been smart.
I am my own guy, and I cannot get butterfly around me.
Well, that’s what any normal girls would have written about this word.
Anyway anyway.
I once saw a dead butterfly in school.
The poor butterfly was half smashed.
It was yellow.
I knelt down, to touch the butterfly for the very first, and last time.
My fingers were yellow.
There isn’t any creature in this world that is as cute and light as the butterflies. Butterflies are found in various sizes and colours. But the most interesting aspect is its charm.
Her stomach jumped at the sight of him. She tried to keep a calm facade, staring at her computer, trying to appear like she was working on something important. He passed, not looking at her until the last possible moment. It seemed almost too planned.
Nervous: there are butterflies in your stomach. That’s how the expression goes, but it also accurately describes the fluttering she makes you feel even now. It’s an effect that’s grown over the years. You fumble sometimes and you know she hears the quiver in your voice, the pauses, the not always subtle subject changes as you angle in on information about her inner thought processes and base of knowledge – how much are you alike, anyway?
She sees the shiftiness in your eyes when you’re testing her because of something you’ve gleaned off her without her quite noticing the source material you’re referencing, but she knows you didn’t just get all of a sudden curious about anyone particular subject. The questions are phrased a little too specifically. You can’t help it. It’s the effect of the butterflies. Anything that helps them settle gives you hope their wings might not beat so strong next time. You think you need to be smooth when you should just be yourself. Little do you know she wouldn’t stifle the beating wings within herself. It makes her feel all the more alive. It’s a compliment to the source, she feels, for without them would she even know how excited you make her feel each time?