It Means I Still Love You

The feelin' in my chest is new and yet painfully familiar at the same time.
Its like the butterflies you gave me before have turned into moths
and they've migrated north to eat at the fabric of my fragile heart.
I feel each individual wing beat every time one lands
as my love and my pain push at the seams.
And its full and its empty.
And I hate it because it means I still love you.