pain can be beautiful.
I hope that if will ever
sees me in this pain,
he still thinks I'm
beautiful, like an art,
because blood is the
same color as roses.
and even if a rose is
red but dyed white, it
casts a shadow, which
represents that I know
the pain I cause
myself is bad but
it's in the back of
my mind.
what can I say?
I'm a heartbroken
boy of scars.

if will ever sees me
living this way, I
don't know what I
would do with my-
self. if he ever took
notice to this un-
healthy way of life,
I think I would
scream until my
lungs are torn. I
would smack some
sense into that
childish golden boy.

which is why I
will never let
him see me
living this way,
even if it sends
me into cascading
tears and I have to
drag myself
away from him.
maybe I may
never see him
again, and only
think about the
sunsets as I
glance at the
old pictures I
took and hung
everywhere, really,
that persephone
won't touch like
she touches
everything else.

will, you may never
understand but know
I love you and trust
me, please.
and please, though I
may never see the
real you again,
stay a beautiful
sunset-colored
butterfly.