The apology was sweet and sour.
He promised me and I felt butterflies rush into my stomach
again…
Like when I loved him before.
Before when my flaws didn’t bother him.
When he protected me from the world and helped me put myself
back together while adding much needed additions.
Before his sweet whisper didn’t rumble and boom about the
bedroom.
His hands would lay gentle onto me sending shivers up my
spine.
Before his hands became rough, demanding.
Hurtful.
But the apology is always sweet and sour topped off with
butterflies
That flutter wildly in my hopeful, nostalgic stomach.
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