More than half a year ago, I found myself in your life,
trusted your light as the guide to find my way back home
because walking alone left me the possibility of being lost,
upon seeing frost nestled between the barks of trees
I've seen what it really means to possess a cold exterior.
I watch your world and mine, conjoin like shortcuts
in the road somewhat leading people to the same places
but some roads aren't meant to be hastened, it's not tasteless
but the faces I began to recognise isn't the one walking with me
it becomes a mystery and before I falter from the trail,
I walk myself backwards, too afraid of you, too afraid to go on,
I found myself walking to the place where I came from.

I was lost, because something happened, something changed
when you took the shortcut.