your love is as warm as a dew on a rose's petal at dawn,
as real as a work of fiction,
as lasting as a butterfly's lifespan,
as loud as silence.

but never have i ever heard the sincerity in your songs,
never did the caterpillar turn into something that can fly,
never did our romance write itself，
never did the bud of your love bloom into life.

never have i ever written something as frank as this.

you didn't love me. you never did.