Does that make it unjust.
That I not share every detail that bursts open inside me.
Every time I hear your name.
Every time that I think about you.
I admit that it comes as unjust.
That it's an unhealthy habit as eventually it has nowhere else to go.
But instead to suffocate everything that it touches.
These butterflies that I keep locked up.
This love that I keep inside.
It fills up inside of me and I fear that if I speak
Everything will ooze on out.
And these butterflies will fly away with no intention of coming back.
The original packaging will have no other use.
But to sit and wait to be filled again.
Unjustly sitting idle with nothing to be filled.
Does that truly make it unjust.
That the most beautiful things are mostly kept hidden in fear.
But before you speak.
What seems as unjust and upright obnoxious is in fact a means to grow.
To flourish into one of the most beautiful things yet spoken.
That what comes off as fear, as a sudden means to withdraw myself
Actually serves as a means to love you deeper than perhaps
what our current environment would allow.
To keep these things that no one else would never know.
And share them with you when the time is right.
In truth you are the most beautiful thing thats perhaps kept me in check.
That without you I would further have no reason to acknowledge
These butterflies that I keep locked away.
Because the most beautiful things in life are destroyed by which
Are not understood.