When love was new you gave me butterflies - 
now, years later all you manage to do is give me moths. 
Moths that have eaten away at all the good & 
left only remnants of what used to be. 
Moth balls cannot keep you/them at bay 
because you remove them as soon as they leave my hand.
Torn, tattered, raggedy, an empty shell 
of the house that used to be called home. 
Alone...leave me alone & take your moths with you.