The Scraps of A Song: An Anthology.

Bye-bye, Little Butterfly

Looking back at all that's happened,
Absolutely without regrets,
I ponder.

What if I had never told you how I felt?
Would you have known I drove myself to madness thinking about you?
Would you have seen the one hidden behind my silence, my silky nonchalance?
Would you even have known my name?

I only let me think of this now, as I watch the last of your memory burn, but
Would you have found me somehow,
If I didn't emotionally strip myself naked before you,
Lay myself bare to gleaming eyes?
If I didn't come to you, would you have come to me?
Would you have known the depths of my love,
The heights of my joy at the sight of your smile,
And my allegiance to your voice?

No.
You had your pick of friends and lovers;
You wouldn't have known that I wanted,
I needed
You.

I keep thinking:
If you had loved me first, would you have left,
Spread your sparkling black wings and flown away like I hadn't given enough?
Would you make concerted effort to forget me?

Did I do too much?
Did I hold you too tight?

Is there anything wrong with me?

I shake my head as I poke at the fire.

There's nothing wrong with me.
There's nothing wrong with you.

I burn the last memory; my wish that you'll never find a love like mine.

Bye-bye, Little Butterfly.