The Moth and The Flame


You don’t know how much I love you. You just don’t fucking know. That I said goodbye just for you to love me and care for me and die for me. These things I felt you felt when you first said hello to me.

So tell me why did you say hello to me? Was it because of my poetry? Was it because of a momentary need for attention? Was it by any chance that you thought there was a possibility for you and me to start a family?

I don’t know why I’m asking these questions. I don’t even know why I loved you just by a simple hello. I thought you were desperate for me. For my words. For my attention. For my love. And it’s so fucking sad that it’s the opposite way around. I’m the desperate one. I’m the one who’s in need of words at night when silence can no longer put me to sleep. I’m the one who’s in need of attention when I hold people’s ignorance for me as a virtue. I’m the one who’s in need of love when loneliness was all I ever had in life. And now you’re gone. And I’m afraid that I may lose myself in the process of losing you.

Please. Say hello to me again like it was the first time. Please. Be desperate for me this time. Please. Love me this time.


7 thoughts on “The Moth and The Flame

  1. I feel for you. There was a time when thought I wrote for myself; to impress myself. But It’s really fucking sad that it’s the other way around. All along he was the only one I wanted to impress. And I started to build the fantasy that he too, would desperately fall for my words, poetry and love. It’s sad really fucking sad…

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