She tells me I put everything so beautifully and poetically when I explain it to her. I tell her I wish it was like that in my mind, but instead, I have violent Gods fighting amongst one another. Like the way our situation wasn’t perfect, and I had to let her love walk away out my door that day.

And it’s a shame, like the rose I gave her today, not knowing what it would’ve been like placing it on my gravestone and feeling sad, but then again hopeful, that we would meet up and do it all over again.


Paul Butterfield Jr




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