She looked straight through me - like she already knew the ruins I was made of. And still sat next to me... like she wasn't afraid of turning to ash. She doesn't know what she's walked into. She doesn't know the things I've done. The darkness I carry. The name I still curse in my sleep. But she smiled at me. And I broke. Not because I was weak. But because for the first time in a long time - I wanted to be someone worth staying for. This isn't about forgetting the past. It's about what happens... when someone new walks in and makes the past bleed. She's not my first love. But she might just be the one I destroy myself for. Because butterflies don't heal broken men. But she's not just a butterfly. SHE IS MINE BUTTERFLY 🦋. I don't appreciate copying.
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