The Butterfly Weeds [Taylor Swift Adoption Story]

BLACK DAHLIA

Dahlias don't actually ever occur naturally in the color black so, if you come across a black dahlia, it's actually a deep shade of crimson!  How dare they lie to us! Not sure if you've noticed but, most flowers represent joy and happiness as it's what humans enjoy. Finding a flower that has a negative meaning can prove quite a challenge. It wasn't hard to find the black dahlia though. The story goes back to 1947 when Elizabeth Short, an aspiring actress was brutally murdered at the age of 22. She was sliced in half at the waist and completely drained of blood. The crime scene was called the Black Dahlia and her killer was never found.

The black dahlia means betrayal, dishonesty, untrustworthy, and sadness. It's a warning signal and lacks the love and innocence that most flowers possess. If you want to send some flowers to an ex of yours, here's a good choice.

Continued
August 19th, 2023
Taylor Swift's Point of View
"What the fuck?" Those are the words that come out of my mouth because I truly have no idea how to react. I have no idea if what I'm seeing is correct. I'm starting to believe I might be hallucinating because that might be more believable than what I'm seeing right now. Joe is just as stunned as me. He can't even form any words. His mouth is open but nothing comes out. I don't know what to do or what to think right now and it's scaring the absolute shit out of me. How did we not notice this? How did we go this long? How did she pull this off? What is going on?

"Don't curse in front of him!" Ivy slightly snaps at me. Okay now, you're the one to argue about behavioral issues?

"So, I see you guys, are kinda shocked. I imagine you would like some explaining." Ivy adds and we both nod, still in shock. She walks over to the crib in the corner by her bed. She reaches in and picks up the baby that's holding a small bear stuffed animal. She holds him against her hip

"So...this is August." The words are going into my brain but I'm not sure how much my brain is actually digesting them.

"And so-he?" Joe starts but doesn't seem to know how to finish it.

"He's my son. He's been hanging out here for the last...since I got here."

I finally begin to move from my place and walk around the room. I quickly realize she never was using the money on herself, she was using it on him. She had a good setup going. She had parenting books, clothes for him, formula, and diapers. All of it is organized and the room is clean. I walk over to the crib and run my fingers across it. It feels sturdy and well-made. The type of crib may be above the average cost. I looked and saw that he had a basket of toys. I'm guessing 90% of that basket is from my money. I look on the floor and see that there's a onesie that seems to have been forgotten to be thrown in the laundry basket. I pick it up and look at it and it says future swiftie. I grin slightly and put the onesie in what seems to be the dirty laundry. I explore the room, completely stunned. I have truly no idea what to think. This wasn't just a room. She was protecting so much more.

"You never used the money on yourself." I look up at her as she holds August.

"No. I didn't spend a dime on myself. It was for him." She gestures to August who is babbling as he holds his stuffed toy. I walk up closer to her to see him.

"And uh how old is he?"

"Six months."

"This is a lot. I think I just need to step out for a minute to take this all in." Joe and I both step out and walk into the kitchen. We sit across from each other silently with just our thoughts, trying to digest what we just witnessed.

"It could have been worse things," I tell him after a few minutes.

"Like what?"

"WORLD DOMINATION? I DON'T KNOW!" I yell.