Maybe I should've stopped him more.
Like a moth, drawn to the flame of my silence.
no matter how warm it feels,
too much light is bound to burn.
Even if he is happy now,
he might wake up
with ash in his mouth.
Sometimes,
I am afraid of your unconditional kindness--
like rain falling on a paper house.
Beautiful,
but destined to collapse.
Even if it's a fleeting connection,
I am afraid that one day...
you might regret me.
May 19, 2025
May 19, 2025 at 6:58 AM UTC
Maybe I should've stopped him more.
Like a moth, drawn to the flame of my silence.
no matter how warm it feels,
too much light is bound to burn.
Even if he is happy now,
he might wake up
with ash in his mouth.
Sometimes,
I am afraid of your unconditional kindness--
like rain falling on a paper house.
Beautiful,
but destined to collapse.
Even if it's a fleeting connection,
I am afraid that one day...
you might regret me.
