Spring of The Dead
There are some things that shall always be hard to explain, just as I struggle to find the right words to express how I feel about you. We'd be attracted to each other like pieces of a magnet pulled apart. You gave me all the fluttery butterflies I didn't want. But nature did as nature does, and I was taught that butterflies don't live long but the ones who create them usually do all the same, even if only in memory. And as another spring faded into hues of melancholy, your last words breathed into me a melodious goodbye.