Something Worth Braiding For

If I split you in three
And braided you back up
Would you crimp and frizz?
I don't think you would
Stay you, because a piece of
Me would probably get
Braided in, even though I
Didn't mean for it to,
And just like that,
The scent of jasmine would
Leave a stain on your heart,
And beloved fingers would leave
Their prints all across mine.
Somewhere, the edges of You
And Me blend together, and
We'll never be able to separate
Us in the End of it all; it will
End, won't it? Is this why we
Cling to the memories at the
End like brown butterflies
To their vibrant flowers, to
Avoid having a part of
Ourselves torn away as the
Love once felt crumbles to
Pieces, a shard of glass under
A boot heal, broken until
Someone cares enough to
Piece it back together. Even
Then, the places that were
Once ripped apart are visible
By the cement between. Is it
Better, then, for me not to
Braid you, when we've
Already seen the end?