You’re much too beautiful for tears.
Laura MillerTag: love brady butterfly-weeds
Tell me you’ve seen the world.
Now, you’ve come back home
Tell me you’ve carried me with you,
That you’ve held me close.
Tell me you’ve missed me
Or that I’m not crazy for waiting cause
Of all the butterflies that chose to stay,
I’m in love with the one that got away
Tag: love will butterfly-weeds
How does the story really go?
Does she ever cross your mind?
Does she ever steal your nights?
Is she still a part of you?
Do you ever wish she were still by your side?
And what would you do?
If she walked up here tomorrow
And told you that she loved you?
Would you drop it all and run to her?
Would you tell her you love her too?
Or would you simply send her home?
And tell her you’ve moved on?
Tell me, Buddy, what would you do?
Tag: will butterfly-weeds laura-miller
More than every once in awhile,
More than most dreams,
More than just my heart,
More than anything,
More than you know,
And more than I can say,
I’ve loved you more
Every passing day
Tag: love will butterfly-weeds laura-miller
A faint smell of lilac filled the air. There was always lilac in this part of town. Where there were grandmothers, there was always lilac.
Laura MillerTag: grandmothers small-town butterfly-weeds
Every small town that I had ever been to had had a caboose.
Laura MillerTag: small-town train butterfly-weeds caboose
Big events, small, mundane moments of the day–it doesn’t matter; the past will find a way to squeeze into the present–if you let it.
Laura MillerTag: past julia butterfly-weeds
The past is a very determined ghost, haunting every chance it gets.
Laura MillerTag: past haunting butterfly-weeds
She always used to say that the past is a relentless parasite in its quest, feeding off of the senses, looking for anything that will trigger a memory–forever there to complicate the present, forever there to remind us that it will always be a piece of us. I never had a clue as to what she meant, until now.
Laura MillerTag: past forever butterfly-weeds
His voice had this thick, Charleston accent, where every word had more syllables than ever intended, yet each word seemed as if it had been carefully chosen and presented in a way that only a man born and raised in the heart of the South could–distinguished and from a different time.
Laura MillerTag: south southern south-carolina southerners butterfly-weeds
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