I Miss My Butterfly

I miss my butterfly
I miss my sun
I miss a lot of things
I shoot at with my gun
My gun of no tomorrow
My gun of no way out
My gun of indecision
My gun of doubt
I mean to rip you and tear everything out
But when i fire, only flowers come out
When i turn to you and take my aim
I try but i can’t seem to lay any blame
Like i keep missing my mark
Like i shoot light instead of dark
Like i shoot
myself
When i can’t put the bullet in you