So tell me,
what lesson
was I supposed to learn?
That knowing the fire
doesn’t stop
the burn.
That red flags can wave,
and truth can be clear,
but lonely hearts listen
to what they need to hear.
I saw all the signs.
I knew where they led.
I heard that old warning
inside of my head.
You know how this ends.
You’ve been here before.
And still,
I kept reaching
for the half-open door.
Not because I was blind.
Not because I couldn’t see.
But because something in you
felt like shelter to me.
And when you grow up
with love passing through,
you learn to hold tightly
to what reaches you.
You stop asking forever.
You stop asking why.
You just beg for a moment
that doesn’t feel like goodbye.
And maybe it was foolish.
Maybe I knew.
But for one little while,
I felt loved by you.
So I held onto sparks
that were already leaving,
called shadows a home,
called silence believing.
Because when love is rare,
even pain can feel true.
And even a ghost
can feel warm
when it looks like you.
May 11
May 11, 2026 at 5:32 AM UTC
So tell me,
what lesson
was I supposed to learn?
That knowing the fire
doesn’t stop
the burn.
That red flags can wave,
and truth can be clear,
but lonely hearts listen
to what they need to hear.
I saw all the signs.
I knew where they led.
I heard that old warning
inside of my head.
You know how this ends.
You’ve been here before.
And still,
I kept reaching
for the half-open door.
Not because I was blind.
Not because I couldn’t see.
But because something in you
felt like shelter to me.
And when you grow up
with love passing through,
you learn to hold tightly
to what reaches you.
You stop asking forever.
You stop asking why.
You just beg for a moment
that doesn’t feel like goodbye.
And maybe it was foolish.
Maybe I knew.
But for one little while,
I felt loved by you.
So I held onto sparks
that were already leaving,
called shadows a home,
called silence believing.
Because when love is rare,
even pain can feel true.
And even a ghost
can feel warm
when it looks like you.
