A/N: I write about him a lot, I know... but I guess some wounds just never heal.

knives and butterflies

Oh, I never could let you go...
angular and pale
with your soft brown eyes
that made my
twelve-year-old heart

You and your lips
and those hands that
held knives and butterflies
and tricked me into
loving you with their
broken tenderness.

You took that undiscovered
darkness in my heart
and made it bloom.
And I'll never forgive you,
and I'll thank you every day.