a Highschool tale

The 4th floor staircase,
how could I forget?
Like the colour on a butterflies wings,
it's significance is ever present.
We would Meet there every time the first bell rung
and depart when the next arrives.
Suns and moons past;
100 love letters,
now buried in the form of ashes in my backyard.
Valentine roses,
Withered in a Crystal jar.
Pages of my diary,
Stained with tears and torn out;
those tear like bullets they were.
Friends ask me how I'm doing
I answer;
"A rose without petals"
Time passes slowly but not slow enough.
I might have all the right cards but I lose the game
I lost someone I loved;
to what I shan't be the judge.
Maybe my grip was too tight and my thoughts too lose.
Do I regret?
My answer simple and plain-
would you?