… rather than butterflies.
I was young and naive when I had my first skips of heartbeats. I was childish back then when we ended up carving our names under that old maiden tree.
But I grew up, and I realized what you meant with your darkness that the facade of light absorbed all of me.
I realized how feelings last forever. I realized how the butterflies take flight and disappear. I realized how trees die in distortion.
Growing up, I realized a lot of things — then some were about you. You weren’t anymore the best chapter, the greatest plot twist, the little monochrome butterfly, or the noiseless beat.
But then I realized, you could have been, too.