I held on so tight to shattered pieces that the blood dripped down my arm. I'm still not really sure what I was holding onto. The words you said that made my heart ache, the way you used to look at me or the security I felt because I thought I had someone on my side. We were a strange pair. I think in the moment you meant what you said. It was us against the cruel cruel world and you were going to shelter and protect me from it but I just wanted to protect you from me. The demon that lives in the back of my head telling me the filthiest lies. I'm not good enough. You never cared about me. It was all a lie. I was there in the moment. I was good enough. You did care about me. So I grab a towel and I wipe the blood that's dripping down my arm and I slowly uncurl my fist. In the palm of my hand is a beautiful butterfly. One born out of pain and suffering and arguments and screaming at each other. The butterfly spreads it's beautiful wings and soars.