Do you know those god damn butterflies everyone gets? The ones that magically come into existence and flutter obnoxiously in your stomach to warn you of a soon-to-come moment of discomfort. Well, I get them too but a bit differently. Instead of confining them to my stomach, my body lets them wander. They are free to impair my breathing while they journey up my esophagus. They choke me as they take their time and stall in my pharynx. With all the effort in me, I force them, spit them out. One by one, hoping nothing gets caught in my teeth. Until my feet are hidden under a blanket of bile-covered, twitching insects. Their dying, pleading screeches, all I hear for days.