It's hard enough, watching you grow into a rose, when I am merely a dandelion.
I feel like poison in your presence, in your golden apple of a life.
Yes she was once your butterfly but I'll never be anything more than a ******* moth.
I love you.
I'm sorry.
Don't leave me.
I see you stop and stare as girls who remind you of her walk down the street.  
I watch your eyes glaze over in defeat, you've buried everything like a dead body in a meadow of regret with no time to mourn.
I tell you I'm fine with razors against my lips and my fingers crossed behind my back.  
I am not fine.
So on the days that I seal my own shell closed with cement.
I want you to know, I'm thinking about her. The girl who was once your butterfly. When all I'll ever be, is a moth.